


A Modern Day Cain

by FiliTheLionKing (IAmYourWatson)



Series: The Kingdom Of The Lost [3]
Category: Lost Boys (Movies)
Genre: Action & Romance, Blood Drinking, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Families of Choice, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Movie, Santa Carla (Lost Boys), Supernatural Elements, Vampires, vampire society
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-06-10 18:31:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15297492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmYourWatson/pseuds/FiliTheLionKing
Summary: Santa Carla, Modern Day.Thirty years after the events of "Kingdom For Sale", David and his family have settled into the business of ruling Santa Carla, protecting their territory and dealing with the minutiae of running a haven city in the middle of California. Peace, or as close to it as vampires can get, has endured over undead denizens of Santa Carla for the last few decades, but trouble is on the horizon. When covens from all around the world gather together in the murder capital of the world, blood is bound to be shed.Old wounds will be reopened. New enemies linger in the shadows. Alliances will be tested.And the murderer will return to the scene of the crime.





	1. Affairs Of State

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A grand event is on the horizon, which can mean only one thing: dull pleasantries, entertaining guests you don't actually want to entertain, and boring meetings where nothing meaningful is said and very little is done. So of course, these duties fall to Mae, since she's the only one who can handle these kinds of things without murdering someone. 
> 
> That doesn't mean she won't consider it, though. 
> 
> At least her first appointment of the week doesn't make her want to claw her eyes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! After a long wait, here it is, the sequel you've all been waiting for! I hope you like it! I'll hopefully be posting regularly again now that this chapter's been banged out. Please let me know what you think in the comments! They feed my decrepit soul. I love you all, and thank you for your patience!

_Santa Carla_

_Modern Day_

 

 

Sunday nights at Pandemonium were never slow, but this was insane. Lukas was literally juggling three drinks at a time just to keep up with demand. It didn’t help that he’d recently dyed his hair an electric blue, which only made him stand out more against the dark wood that made up most of the bar. The dance floor was packed with people in various stages on inebriation, a mighty feat considering that all of them were vampires. Lukas wasn’t sure how they did it, but on a night like this, he could easily clean out his entire supply of alcohol if he didn’t cut people off early enough. Thankfully, a few groups had left already, probably to get a bite to eat before settling down for the night. The advantage of building Pandemonium in the middle of the mostly abandoned industrial district meant that most of the overnight lodgings were nearby, so he didn’t have to worry about his clients causing too many problems after they walked out his door.

Well, technically they weren’t his problem at all, but that was beside the point.

Lukas had come to Santa Carla about a decade ago, freshly 30 and looking for a new start. The fact that he’d been 30 for well over 20 years was beside the point. He liked the idea of settling down for a few years, setting up shop, and staking his claim to part of the local nightlife, so to speak. Being the intelligent and enterprising young man that he was, he first went to the local coven for permission. It was easily granted, probably because the bar they used to visit was shutting down because of the recession. His little establishment had felt a bit like a speakeasy at first, not that he’d been alive back then, but he’d read a lot of books about bootlegging as a kid, so he figured he was something of an expert. Vampires came in and out like the wind, furtively asking for certain types of blood, which he always had in good supply. Lukas was nothing if not considerate, often going out of his way to procure rarities for his regulars. With the blessing of the heads of Santa Carla, his bar became the number one place to be if you wanted to see and be seen. What was supposed to be a stay of just a few years drew out into well over a decade, and Lukas was surprised to find himself content to remain indefinitely.

After handing off a round of tequila shots laced with O+ to a vampire who couldn’t have been more than sixteen when he was changed, Lukas took a quick look around, appreciating the slight ebb in eager customers. The building he’d set up shop in must have gone through several conversions over the year, but luckily for him, the last renovation had been to make it a somewhat passable dive bar. He’d taken a loan out from an old friend and fine-tuned the place to his exacting specifications, making it an elegant yet distinctly working-class place. The floors were made of sturdy wood, strong enough to withstand any fights that might break out, and there had been a few. Sadly, the bloodstains never came out, so he’d had to replace them periodically anyway. The walls were decorated with a slightly Victorian flair, because if he was going to be a vampire for the rest of time, he was going to go in for the full aesthetic, goddamn it! It wasn’t overwhelming, but it was definitely there. Booths lined the walls, save for the furthest end from the door, where the dance floor and small stage took up all the space. Sometimes bands played, but there was usually a DJ these days. The music was eclectic, but with a distinctly rock and roll leaning. Top 40 rarely made it into his establishment, and if it did, it better be fucking good. With the exception of a few themed nights he held regularly, the DJ kept the vibe energetic but tasteful.

A man came up to the bar, a stranger Lukas had never seen before. Of course, this wasn’t an unusual occurrence, so Lukas treated him no differently than he would treat anyone else. At least half of his clientele came by once every few years, if that; a quick drink of the good stuff, a good night’s sleep, and good-fucking-bye. Lukas looked the guy over as the man studied the menu behind the bartender: middle-aged at the time of his turning, upper class, definitely European. Shit. Those guys were a crapshoot at best, but most of them were complete assholes to anyone who wasn’t Dracula’s fucking firstborn. At least he wasn’t bad looking. Dark-skinned, hair graying at the temples, eyes a bright green. Kind of silver fox-y, actually. If he didn’t turn out to be a complete bastard, Lukas might just give him the time of day. The man finally met Lukas’ inquiring gaze, offering a genteel smile as he finally placed his order.

“A bourbon on the rocks, please.” His voice was heavily accented, sounding vaguely Spanish or Portuguese.

“Of course. Coming right up.” Lukas smiled, grabbing the proper bottle. Thank the heavens above, this man had actual _manners_! “So what brings you to our little corner of the golden state?” 

“Business, I’m afraid.” The man replied, accepting his drink with another winning smile. He slipped a $20 across the counter, then waited patiently while Lukas got his change.

“What kind of business?” The rush was over for now, so Lukas wanted some entertainment that wasn’t quietly cringing at the blatant acts of clothed sex happening in the darker corners of the dance floor. He began wiping down the counter just for something to do.

“Securing lodging for my sire and coven. We’ll be visiting for about a week. Can you recommend anywhere, actually? You might save me a trip. I need something a little more…luxurious than the cots in the warehouses.” The stranger laughed a little self-deprecatingly. “My sire is rather picky about accommodations.”

Lukas laughed as well, waving off the man’s concerns. “Nah, man, I get it. The older they are, the more stuffy. There’s a new hotel down by the pier that just opened up. It’s not perfect, but a few of the key employees are paid quite handsomely to ignore some of the more _unusual_ guests. That any help, Mr…?”

“Ramiro. And you are?”

“Lukas. I own this place.” Lukas grinned, seeing the spark of interest in Ramiro’s eyes. “Yeah, I’m in good with the locals. I know most everything that goes on.” He couldn’t help bragging just a little bit. Maybe he’d get laid tonight.

“That’s quite a feat, considering how many people pass through this place. Isn’t Santa Carla one of the busiest Way Stations in the United States?” Ramiro teased.

“Yeah. I’d say one of the busiest in the world, but maybe that’s just cause everyone who visits comes through here at one point or another. Gotta fill up on blood somehow, especially when the feeding limits are up.” Lukas shrugged.

“Speaking of, I was wondering…” Ramiro trailed off when the bar suddenly grew quiet, except for the barely-perceptible whispering of some of the dancers. “What’s happening?” He turned to Lukas, who was looking at the front door.

“Looks like the bosses just rolled in. Well, one of them, at least. Maybe more.” Lukas set the glass he’d been polishing down, glancing at the bouncers stationed around the room. They usually weren’t needed, but sometimes shit happened.

“The bosses?” Ramiro tilted his head, looking back at the door, which was slowly opening to make sure that none of the patrons milling about got hit.

“The King and his coven.” Lukas winked at Ramiro before turning his attention back to the door. “The five rulers of Santa Carla.”

 

* * *

 

Even the whispering stopped when the figure at the door stepped inside. High-heeled boots clacked against the wooden floors as the crowd parted, making way for the new arrival. She was pale-skinned, her brown hair dripping into a purple ombre on her shoulders, which were covered in a long military-style jacket. The gold braid complemented the rich black fabric, which matched the dark skintight jeans tucked into her Victorian-style boots. A laughing skull with a thorny rose in its mouth was embroidered on the back of her jacket; it was the symbol of her coven, a sign that she was one of the chosen few. Her lips were painted the color of dark wine, and dagger-shaped earrings hung from her ears. She looked beautiful and deadly, enticing and cruel. Lukas barely held back a laugh, recognizing the outfit for what it was.

Mae Clayton, sister of the king, was dressed for war.

She took her time crossing the room, seeing and being seen, before taking a seat at the only booth against the same wall as the bar. It was on a dais, raised a few steps above the crowd, giving it the appearance of both a throne and a private lounge. As soon as Mae took her seat on the left side, the music returned to its normal volume, and the patrons began dancing and drinking again. Ramiro noted that there was a slight tension in the air, a heady mix of anticipation and fear. Some looked eagerly at the booth and its occupant, while most just ignored them. A few were glancing warily at the door, as if expecting more people to come marching through. He turned back to Lukas, who was watching his reactions with interest.

“Who _is_ she?”

“That, my friend, is Mae. She’s the youngest of the group, technically, but don’t let that fool you. She knows more about the vampire world and the people in it than anyone else I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a _lot_ of people.” Lukas grinned, serving a tequila shot to a customer before turning back to Ramiro. “Folks around here call her ‘The Ripper’." 

“And why is that?” Ramiro asked, not sure if he wanted to know.

“Because right after she was turned, she ripped the heart out of Old Widow Johnson, or Rosamund, as you Europeans might know her. She killed one of Dracula’s oldest daughters with her bare hands.” Lukas’ grin turned feral, taking pride in how his boss’s accomplishment made Ramiro shiver in quiet fear.

“ _She’s_ the one that killed Rosamund? Damn…we heard about that back when it happened. We thought it was an exaggeration, the way she killed the old lady.” Ramiro finished off his drink, letting Lukas refill it. “What about the others?”

“If they didn’t come in with Mae, they’re probably not gonna show up tonight, although sometimes Dwayne will stop by before closing to ride home with her. He’s the lieutenant, second only to the king himself. You don’t wanna mess with him. They call _him_ ‘The Wolf’, and for good reason.” Lukas laughed as Ramiro rubbed his forehead.

“Okay, so now that you’ve had your fun trying to frighten me into an early grave. If I’m to speak to the leaders of this city about allowing my coven inside, I should start with her?” Ramiro huffed. Lukas decided to give the poor man a break and nodded.

“Exactly. It’s a good thing she’s here, actually. She’s the nicest out of the bunch, _and_ she’s got the authority to grant your boss permission to enter. You’re here for the wedding, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. I came early since my sire likes to bring a rather large retinue with him when he travels.” Ramiro finished off his second drink before straightening his suit coat.

“Thank you for your assistance, Lukas. I’ll be remaining in the city until after the festivities, so perhaps I’ll see you again?” The words weren’t really a question. Lukas knew he’d scored.

“Of course. Have fun, Ramiro. Oh, and relax. Mae doesn’t bite. Much.” Lukas laughed at his terrible joke, waving Ramiro off to conduct his business.

 

* * *

 

Mae hadn’t intended on making quite the scene when she came to the bar tonight, but she’d gotten word that several new vampires had been spotted in town, many of them reeking of money and power, so she’d decided that drama was the order of the day. If vampires like that were making the rounds around the city, it could only mean that the emissaries of the powerful covens were scouting out Santa Carla for their masters. Politically speaking, it would be wisest to appeal to their European sensibilities, since that was where most of their guests were coming from.

That meant dressing to the nines, and after a few decades of practice, Mae was nothing if not a master of vampire fashion. The military jacket was deliberate, for example: it was an outward statement of her coven’s martial prowess, hers in particular, since she was the one who killed one of Dracula’s own children with her bare hands. David had thought that the carefully coordinated outfit was overkill, but Marko had agreed that if you wanted to win a game, you had to play it by the rules…as long as it benefited you, at least.

A waitress dropped off a glass of Gentleman Jack on the rocks, and Mae threw her a wink in thanks. She was a new hire, but she’d seen the girl lingering around the bar for the last few weeks. Must be a new fledgling. She’d have to get her name to add to Marko’s lists. If Lukas had hired her, then she _should_ be trustworthy. Ugh. Security wasn’t her forte, which is why she left it to Marko and Dwayne. She had a feeling Dwayne would show up within the next hour or so, since she’d texted him that she was heading over to Pandemonium to make a scene. He was a worrywart, that one, but she thought it was cute. Hopefully, she wouldn’t need his help. The man approaching her booth looked harmless enough, so maybe tonight would go well.

“Welcome to Santa Carla, Mr…?” Mae smiled, offering the man a seat across from her in the booth. 

“Ramiro. I represent Callistus, Leader of the Iberian Covens.” Ramiro sketched a bow before taking his place. “Lukas, the gentleman at the bar, said that you would be the one to see about securing permission to enter the city.” 

“That’s correct, Mr. Ramiro.” Mae replied, taking a sip of her drink. “Can I offer you a beverage?”

“Thank you, but I had a few earlier.” Ramiro answered politely.

“Then we’ll get down to business. As my king’s duly appointed representative, I hereby grant you and your coven permission to enter the city.” Mae produced a small card from her insider her jacket, offering it to Ramiro. The small piece of cardstock had the skull and rose of her coven stamped on it, with Mae’s signature along the bottom.

“Show that to anyone who questions you and your kin, and you’ll be recognized as official guests of my coven. If you see someone wearing the laughing skull, they work for us. Should you need help, simply show the card to them, and they’ll put you in contact with one of us. Otherwise, come to Pandemonium, and Lukas can help you with whatever you may need, although I’m sure you’ll be coming here again for more than just business, Mr. Ramiro.” The man in question laughed.

“Ah, so you saw that? Is Lukas emblematic of all Americans, Ms. Mae? He’s one of the most straightforward creatures I have ever met.”

“He is. That’s why I hired him.” Mae chuckled as she took another drink. “The rules that govern Europe are considered rather antiquated here.”

“And yet you play the game so well, Ms. Mae.” Ramiro grinned.

“My brother taught me. Túlio is quite adept at the politics of the vampire world, although he has as much use for them as I do.” 

“While I do enjoy the games of the European courts, I must agree that sometimes they can be quite…vexing.” Ramiro sighed, rubbing his forehead.

“Then I’m sure you’ll find your stay in California rather refreshing. If your master seeks luxury accommodation, I suggest the Hotel del Mar a few miles from the boardwalk. It has a few private cabanas that should be able to house your party. You’re extremely lucky, Mr. Ramiro; none of the other old lords have arrived yet, and their emissaries haven’t booked any rooms yet. You can get as many as you need before they have any idea that they’re gone.” Mae’s little laugh showed just how funny she thought the whole thing would be. 

“Well, my sire _does_ like outwitting the other coven lords, especially the Romanian coven.” Ramiro joined her laughter with a few chuckles of his own.

“Between you and me, if this were _my_ wedding, I’d invite the locals and be done with it. But alas, Túlio is something of a drama queen. I wouldn’t be surprised if he found a way to raise Miguel from the dead just to wave his triumph in front of his face: all the world’s most important covens, here in little old Santa Carla for Túlio’s wedding. Miguel would burst into flames from the idea alone.”

“ _That_ would be something to see.” Ramiro agreed, well aware of the shame Miguel had brought upon himself by backing down on his word. Túlio had proven himself to be a capable and well-respected leader, which was why so many covens were coming to his nuptials.

Mae nodded, finishing off her drink. Her hand froze halfway back down to the table, but only for a fraction of a second. If Ramiro hadn’t been looking right at her, he would have missed it. As it was, Mae was pretending that nothing had happened, so he went along with it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lukas signal to the bouncers at the door, who quietly locked the entrance. Hm. Interesting. Instead of throwing someone out, they were locking someone in…but why? He had his answer a moment later, when a large Polynesian man, dressed in black and wearing a laughing skull pin on his lapel, dragged a skeletal-looking man before the dais. Mae turned in her seat, crossing her legs as she stared down at the bedraggled prisoner.

“Oh, Niall. Back again, are we?” Mae sighed, leaning her head on her hand. “You know you’re not supposed to be here, my friend.”

“I was out…out of blood…couldn’t…get any…” Niall’s voice shook just as badly as his body, his face covered in dirt and dried blood. “I just need…just needed…something…to last the night…”

“…Mr. Nash, where did you find him?” Mae directed her attention at the bouncer.

“Behind the dumpster, sniffing at the old bags.” Nash replied, his face impassive. “To his credit, he hasn’t been seen in town until today, and there haven’t been any murders reported.”

“Did you search him?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Did you find anything?" 

“Nothing, ma’am.” Nash shifted to keep Niall from falling forward. The skinnier man was barely standing. “No drugs, no alcohol, not even pain medicine. He smells clean, too.”

Mae was silent for a moment, her eyes boring into Niall’s as the man struggled to stay on his feet. When she finally spoke, her eyes were sympathetic, even though her voice conveyed no emotion either way.

“Niall, my brother banished you from Santa Carla for a year. It’s only been eight months.”

“I know.” Niall’s eyes dropped to the floor. 

“You were banished for killing well beyond the limits, and you did it poorly as well. We nearly had to kill a policeman, and you know how much trouble that is.”

“…I know.” 

“My brother was well within his rights to kill you, Niall. You could have exposed us all.” Mae leaned forward, waiting until Niall looked her in the eyes. 

“Do you know _why_ he didn’t kill you, my friend?”

“No…”

“He didn’t kill you because I intervened on your behalf. You were just a newborn, and no one had told you about the rules of our world. And you were an addict when you were changed, weren’t you?” When Niall nodded, Mae continued. “I asked my brother to be lenient. You’re a local boy, so of course you’d feel safest here. I knew you’d stuck around just beyond our borders, and I even had the guards send meals your way. What changed?”

“Travelers…kept getting…my food…before I did…” Niall coughed, dripping old, rotten blood from between his teeth. “Thought they were just…luck…the meals…”

“I might look like Lady Luck, but I’m not her. I have a vested interest in you, Niall. I want to keep you alive, but you’re not making it easy for me.” Mae sighed, scratching at her chin. “You’ve returned before your banishment ended, but you did so because you were hungry. Since Mr. Nash has confirmed that you’re both sober and refraining from killing inside the city, I’m going to offer you a deal.”

“A…deal?” Niall asked, confused. 

“Yes, a deal. Lukas has been in need of a cleaner for some time, but he has yet to hire one. He keeps hiring waitresses instead.” Mae shot Lukas an exasperated, if indulgent, look.

“This is my deal: you will serve the rest of your banishment here, in Pandemonium. You can sleep down in the basement in one of the private cots, so you won’t disturb the guests if you relapse. If after four months, Lukas can tell me in good faith that you’ve served him well _and_ you’ve remained clean, your banishment will be finished, and this violation will be overlooked. Fail him, and I will let the king decide your fate.” The whole room when cold at the mention of the ruler of the city. He was _not_ a kind man.

“Do we have a deal, Niall?” Mae stood, offering the man a hand to shake.

It took Niall a moment, but with Nash’s help, he managed to stand tall and accept Mae’s hand.

“I agree.”

The tension bled from the room. Nash helped Niall downstairs while Mae ignored Lukas’ pointed grumbling from the bar, which was just loud enough for her to hear. She turned back to Ramiro, enjoying his look of confusion.

“You didn’t kill him?”

“No.” 

“But why not? He broke your king’s decree!” In Europe, Niall would have been killed on sight. 

“So he did.” Mae slid her finger around the rim of her empty glass. “But I am not without mercy, and Niall is just a kid. I know what it’s like to be on your own. It was by pure luck that I didn’t end up like him. He only wanted to live, Mr. Ramiro. We all want to live. It’s why we don’t walk into the sun the first chance we get. My king knows that as well. He wouldn’t give me the authority to act in his stead if he doubted my abilities.” She raised an eyebrow at her guest.

“Are _you_ doubting me, Mr. Ramiro?” Her tone was razor-sharp.

“Of course not, my lady.” Ramiro bowed his head, only raising it when Mae turned back to the dance floor.

“We learned long ago that simply killing your problems would not solve them, Mr. Ramiro. It is better to be loved than to be feared, in my opinion. A good ruler may rest his hand on the pommel of his sword, but rarely does he draw it from its scabbard.” Mae stood, watching as Ramiro stood as well, ever the gentleman. “I’m surprised that the lords of Europe haven’t learned that lesson yet.”

“Perhaps they will someday, Ms. Mae.” Ramiro offered, but they both knew that the older the vampire, the more set in their ways they became.

“One can only hope. Please enjoy your stay here, Mr. Ramiro. Relay my king’s offer of welcome to your sire, and let us know when they arrive. Lukas will be more than happy to fill you in on the rules of Santa Carla. Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for me to head home.” Mae offered her hand to her guest, who shook it firmly. 

“Until next time, my lady.” Ramiro smiled, his eyes tired after his rather confusing night.

“Until next time.” Mae replied before sweeping out of the bar.

Behind her, the doors closed on the pounding music and writhing bodies, few of which even noticed her departure. It was as if she’d never been there at all.

 

* * *

 

“I swear to fucking god, the next time Túlio wants to get married, he can go to fucking Canada like everyone else!”

Mae’s entrance was, like the one she’d made not an hour beforehand, full of drama. This time, however, there was no elegance to her performance, just exhaustion and the potential for a torrential outpouring of cursing. Her shoes were kicked haphazardly towards the rest of her brothers’ shoes, bouncing against the little rack that was _supposed_ to house them when they weren’t being worn, but rarely saw any actual use. She unbuttoned her jacket and tossed it over the back of a vacant chair before falling dramatically over the back of the couch, tumbling head over heels onto Dwayne, who had been trying to take a nap. Her shoulder dug into his chest, effectively preventing him from going back to sleep. With a growl, he nearly shoved her off onto the floor, but thought better of it when he imagined the epic bitchfest that would follow such an action. Instead, he poked and prodded her until she wasn’t jamming her various sharp edges into his skin.

“Mae, it’s only a week away. You’ll live.” He grumbled, pulling her closer until they were practically spooning. It was the only way they’d both fit on the tiny couch.

“If I have to keep talking like a goddamn Victorian noble for the next week, I’ll blast my own head off just to escape the pain.” She growled, her voice muffled by Dwayne’s arm as she buried her face in it.

Paul, who was in the kitchen rummaging around for something to cure his raging case of the munchies, finally found a bag of chips and sauntered back into the living room. He sat on a chair and popped the bag open, crunching loudly on the salty snacks.

“Aw, c’mon! You don’t wanna do that, kid. It’ll sting like a motherfucker.”

Mae could just imagine the crumbs he was spraying everywhere, so she chose to ignore him completely. Instead, she cast her mind out towards the rest of her house, searching for her boyfriend. Marko seemed to be lingering in the attic, probably updating his files on the various movements of the local covens. For some reason, he actually _liked_ the paperwork involved in running David’s kingdom, but that was probably just because he had an excuse to spy on everyone. She nudged at his consciousness, grinning when she got his attention.

_‘Am I not enough to drive you away from your little black books, baby?”_

_‘Of course you are, but I gotta finish this up if you want me all to yourself tonight,_ _кохана.’_

_‘Ugh. Fine, but don’t take too long, okay?’_

_‘Okay, baby.’_ The smile must have been evident on her face, because the next thing she heard was David’s laughter ringing out from across the room. She opened her eyes to see him leaning against the door, smelling of smoke and ash from his recent cigarette.

“Aaaaw, did I interrupt something?” He teased, ignoring Mae’s pointed glare. He laughed again when Mae just huffed and snuggled further back into Dwayne, who was barely holding back his own chuckles.

“How was the meeting with the Iberian?” David took a seat on the coffee table, wanting to get the update over with. Although Mae was more than capable of handling what he considered to be the most boring of all the pre-wedding tasks, David still wanted to know what was going on. He was nice like that.

“It went well. He’s a nice guy, so I think we’ll get along. If he and Lukas aren’t banging by the end of the week, I’ll eat my hat.” Mae snorted, groaning as she stretched before sitting up, ignoring Dwayne’s rumble of discontent at the loss of his personal blanket. 

“His coven’s probably gonna set up shop at the Hotel del Mar in the cabanas. His sire sounds like the type to want only the best shit for himself and his crew, so I’d alert our eyes over there to keep an ear out for him. Casper heard a rumor that the Iberians are feuding with the Swedes, so we should keep them separated when they come in. I’ll let you know when they show up.” Mae rubbed her forehead in anticipation of the shitshow that dealing with warring clans could be.

“Also, Niall showed up again." 

“Oh? Why was he here?” David’s tone was light, but she could sense the anger boiling up beneath it. David _hated_ being defied.

“He was starving. Traveling vampires kept eating the meals I sent his way, so he was dried up. Nash found him sniffing around Pandemonium’s dumpsters.” Mae frowned, remembering how gaunt Niall looked. He reminded her of Casper a little bit.

“So what did you do with him?” David scratched his chin.

“Nash didn’t find any drugs on him, and Niall’s been keeping his nose clean in more ways than one, so I went easy on him. I told him that since he’s been keeping his head down, he could serve the rest of his sentence inside Pandemonium as their resident janitor, basically. If Lukas felt that Niall had served him well by the end of it, then Niall would be free. I think he’ll make it. He’d only have shown his face in Santa Carla if he was desperate.” Mae said with conviction.

David knew that Mae had a soft spot for lost causes, since she’d been one once upon a time. Niall had been a coke addict before his turning by a rogue, who’d fucked off long before David and his family could find them. Mae had wanted to take Niall under her wing, but the newborn had caused too much damage before she could get her chance. David had offered mercy because Mae had asked him to. To see his generosity snubbed was a blow to his ego, but he could understand the need to survive outweighing all other consequences. Yeah, he’d let it slide, but not without a price.

“ _If_ he doesn’t fuck up, he’s _your_ responsibility, Mae.” David raised an eyebrow, his tone brooking no argument. “If he steps an _inch_ out of line, he’s dead. Got it?”

“Got it.” Mae nodded. David admired the determination in her eyes, but he worried that her efforts would be for naught. Maybe it was because he just had no faith in people outside his circle, and Mae hadn’t lived long enough to lose that little bit of humanity left in her. He didn’t want to think that the possibility of Mae being disappointed bothered him so much was because he was _gaining_ some humanity. Nah. Couldn’t be.

Marko’s footsteps on the stairway brought them all out of their somber thoughts, and the cares of leadership were thrown out of the window for the rest of the night. With the doors closed and locked between them and the world, they could all relax and be what they were truly meant to be: family.

 

* * *

 

 

Later that night, when the house was quiet and the sky was just starting to lighten with the haze of morning, Mae traced her fingers up and down Marko’s collarbone, her lips drawn into a tight line as something pushed at the edge of her mind. A strange sense of foreboding was washing over her, although she had no idea why. The last few decades had been relatively quiet, with nothing truly dangerous threatening her beloved and her brothers. She hoped that it was just paranoia, or exhaustion from handling the political affairs of the city, but something told her that she wasn’t just overthinking things. It wasn’t until Marko caught her hand in his own that she was drawn from her musings, the sensation of his lips on her fingertips chasing away the shadows forming in her head.

“What’s got you thinking so hard, кохана?” Marko murmured, half-asleep. He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, smiling when their gazes met. Over thirty years of being together had peeled back enough of his walls that he no longer feared showing such open affection to his beloved. Mae’s answering smile was always worth the effort.

“…Just…” Mae huffed, biting her lip. “…I feel like something terrible is gonna happen. Like something’s lurking just outside the house, watching us, waiting to strike. I don’t mean like I feel a real person sitting outside, more like the world is going to shift beneath us, and there’s nothing to hold on to…”

Marko frowned, studying the worry in Mae’s expression. Neither of them was prone to premonitions or any other semi-mystical powers that sometimes popped up among their kind. Casper’s innate ability to find people could be called otherworldly, but he was the only one Marko knew of personally who could be considered such an anomaly. Maybe this was something latent, but more likely than not, Mae was just overworked. Handling the incoming covens was already stressing her to her breaking point, and the true frenzy hadn’t even begun yet. Still, he didn’t want to dismiss her feelings entirely. That wouldn’t be fair.

“…I want to say it’s just your imagination, кохана, but if you really think it’s something serious, you should let David know. We can keep an eye on things, alert the guards around town, maybe give Casper a call and see if he’s heard anything strange.” Marko pressed a kiss to her forehead, feeling his girlfriend relax in his arms.

“Thank you, for not just saying I’m being stupid.” Mae sighed, burrowing her face into his neck. 

“You know I wouldn’t, Mae.” He pulled her as close as possible, feeling the sun begin to rise over the horizon. Sleep would beckon them in a few minutes, a call too strong to resist.

“I know, darling, but I still wanted to say it.” She kissed his neck, smiling softly, knowing he would feel the movement of her lips. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, кохана.” Marko whispered as the sun finally rose fully into the sky, the sleep of the undead pulling the two of them under into a quiet sleep.

 

* * *

 

  

Somewhere, halfway across the world, the trouble that plagued Mae’s mind stepped onto a plane bound for California.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me at unchainmesister.tumblr.com!


	2. What's Past Is Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a strangely cool summer's evening, David contemplates his kingdom, watching the moon and the stars from his favorite place on the porch. He'd never expected his life to turn out this way, a strange mix of domesticity with his family and royal rule and duty with his subordinates. You can't run a haven city on your own, and even though his brothers and sisters are more than capable of handling themselves, it was better to have an army at your back, especially with the latest item on their list of worries. 
> 
> You would think the wedding should be the biggest event of the week, but there is another affair competing for David's attention: the arrival of a particularly powerful coven tomorrow evening. Mae and David take a moment to gather their strength before the time comes. 
> 
> And somewhere else, the cards reveal a fate in constant change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that took so long, guys! Hope you like this one! The action begins in the next chapter! As always, comments and kudos feed my dark, decrepit soul!

_Earlier That Same Evening_

 

The summer air was pleasantly warm, the remaining heat from the day radiating out of the ground in gentle waves as the earth released it like a sigh. David sat on his usual chair on the porch of the old Comstock house, the place he’d been calling home for the last three decades. Save for a major repaint in the early 90’s and some of the decorations inside, the house still looked much the same as it did when he first arrived. They’d built a real garage in what could be considered a corner of the backyard, with concrete floors and power generators so Marko could tinker to his little black heart’s content. The old shed still stood in the yard, empty except for some old tools and some gardening equipment. Sometimes pigeons roosted in it, which also made Marko very happy, so they left it there, fixing it now and then when it leaned too far to the side. Paul had hung a tire swing from one of the trees lining the property around the turn of the millennium, and Dwayne could sometimes be seen carving patterns into pieces of an old log that had fallen over last year. Mae kept some flowers in little pots on the windowsills, so when the breeze was just right, the smell of jasmine would briefly overwhelm the acrid pollution of cigarette smoke lingering on the porch. From the outside looking in, you could never tell that everyone in the house was a creature of the night.

David placed a cigarette between his lips and lit up, savoring the first drag like a fine wine. Tonight had been relatively easy for him: he’d met with his subordinates, his “made men”, if you wanted to go with the mafia angle some of the newer covens operated on. Lukas, Nash, Calpurnia, Sato, Kai, Aminah, Quinn, Vic, Murtagh, Sparrow, Red, Lee, Jamie, Caleb, and Trip were the soldiers of the Santa Carla coven, official members who had the privilege of wearing the laughing skull that had come to symbolize the city’s ruling family. He hadn’t sired any of his men; he’d long ago decided that he would keep his blood family small, turning only those that he could trust without a shadow of a doubt. With the exception of Mae, who he would have turned himself had The Widow not gotten there first, he had yet to meet someone else he felt deserved the honor. His men were made up of vampires that had wandered into Santa Carla and never really left, proving themselves with blood and sweat by protecting the city at the risk of their immortal lives. In return for their loyalty and obedience, David gave them stability and status, a place to call home for as long as they wanted. Not once had they betrayed him, and he made sure that their pockets were never empty and their stomachs were always full.

Tonight’s meeting had been about security for the upcoming wedding, an event that had been giving him a headache for months. About a year ago, Casper had proposed to Túlio, offering his heart and soul to his beloved in the most permanent way possible. Vampires usually weren’t the marrying kind; when they did bond, it was by mating, a sometimes vicious exchange of bites whose marks would never disappear, creating a link that could never be broken, except by their final deaths. Túlio, however, was a man who loved ceremony and circumstance, and what Túlio wanted, Túlio got, as far as Casper was concerned. Santa Carla had been the obvious choice of location, and David had been happy to agree when the guest list had been relatively small. What no one had counted on was the other ruling covens of the world wanting in on the rather unusual ceremony, and if peace was to be maintained, Túlio couldn’t exactly say no. David had nearly destroyed half of the house the night he’d discovered this little fact.

After a rather heated argument with Mae (and Paul of all people), David had been convinced not to rescind his approval for the wedding to take place in his city, instead handing off most of the detail-oriented tasks to Marko and Mae, knowing that they wouldn’t be as easily tempted into homicide as he would be if he had to do it. Despite delegating most of the work, David wasn’t satisfied with just sitting back and relaxing, so he and Dwayne worked on making sure that Santa Carla became something of a supernatural fortress for the week of arrivals before the wedding itself. No expense was spared in making sure that the sudden influx of vampires wouldn’t upset the balance of life in the city. As far as the citizens of the murder capital of the world were concerned, peak tourist season had come early, and nothing more.

Smoke hung around David’s head like his own personal fog, obscuring the finer details of the night sky for several long moments. David waved it away when he was bored of squinting through the haze, staring up at the unchanging stars shining through the light pollution of the city. Santa Carla hadn’t really changed in any meaningful way, and that was the way he liked it. Oh, sure, technology marched on, but the important things remained the same. What had once been Max’s video store became an iPhone repair shop, but most of the grungy bars near the main drag were still there, smelling like stale beer soaked in seawater. Fashion cycled through its frenetic changes, sometimes dipping back into the neon-colored syrup of the 80’s for inspiration. The 80’s were probably his favorite decade of the last century, so seeing the trends show up in the boutique windows was always pleasant. These days, the 90’s were more in vogue, but keeping up with street wear was more of Mae’s thing, since Túlio was nothing if not a gossiping clotheshorse. The outward appearances of Santa Carla might have neatened up once the new century began, but underneath was still the sticky-sweet tang of blood and decay.

His brothers and sister had changed with the times as well, some more than others. David was content to dress much the same as he had for the last several decades; after all, “biker chic”, as Mae liked to call it, was always in vogue. He’d grown his hair out in the late 90’s, cut it partway through the first decade of the new millennium, and was now in the process of growing it out again. It almost reached his shoulders now, the platinum blonde strands standing out against the dark shirts and jackets he favored. Dwayne had been forced to put on a shirt when fashions changed, although he went without as often as possible. He still liked to wear his same old jacket, letting Mae repair it as needed, although that was all that remained of his old clothes. Since Dwayne was David’s right hand, he needed to be able to fight at a moment’s notice, so comfort was the order of the day. Dark jeans and old band shirts allowed for movement and flexibility, although Mae sometimes wrangled him into something less bland. David snickered, remembering one time in particular when Mae and Paul manhandled Dwayne into a Victorian getup for a party at Pandemonium. For all of Dwayne’s complaining, he was strutting around like a goddamn supermodel by the time the night was over.

Marko switched between 50’s greaser and hipster with alarming frequency. If he wasn’t in a leather jacket and black converse with his hair slicked back, he had his curls tucked under a beanie or a wide-brimmed felt hat, a pea coat and combat boots making him look like he’d just stepped out a Pinterest post. (The fact that David knew what Pinterest was still sickened him to this day). Paul still clung to his rocker days, although he’d left the mountains of hairspray and fishnet shirts behind in the 80’s. He shared Mae and Túlio’s passion for the latest runway looks, always ready to doll up in whatever caught his fancy. Lately he’d been sticking to tight black jeans, studded boots, and whatever jacket he’d bought down in Rodeo Drive when he accompanied Mae on her visits down to see her brother. The money Mae had inherited from Miguel had grown under Mae’s shrewd eye for investments, so at least they didn’t have to worry about Paul’s latest addiction robbing them blind.

Speaking of his sister, Mae still leaned towards goth on most days, minus the existential ennui and copious amounts of white face paint. David took a final pull on his cigarette as he watched the youngest of his family ride up on her bike, waves and waves of frustration and annoyance rolling off of her. He could tell tonight’s visit to Pandemonium to conduct business had been rough without even needing to tap into their mental link. David admired the cut of her jacket as she marched towards the house, the fabric tailored to show off her figure in the best possible way. Her hair color changed nearly every month these days, and though she would never admit it out loud, once she was able to afford it, her latent vanity demanded only the best in clothes and accessories. She’d come a long way from the girl who sold trinkets on the pier, the freedoms of her new life coaxing out traits she’d kept suppressed during her years of poverty. He was proud of her. Over the many years of his undead life, David had realized that a person showed their truest colors when the restrictions of mortal life were taken away from them. He reveled in seeing his family indulge in their darkest delights, the things the world would shame them for…if they still cared what the world thought.

With his cigarette gone and Mae already inside the house, David took one last look at the stars before heading inside. He felt something warm spread through him when he saw Dwayne and Mae curled together on the couch like little kids, his sister smiling and his brother dozing contentedly. Paul threw him a wink as David focused his senses towards the attic, hearing nothing, which meant that Marko was probably talking to his girlfriend instead of finishing his work. David leaned against the wall, taking in the sight for another moment before finally interrupting. He would never admit to the warmth in his chest or the contentment he felt deep in his very bones at seeing his family safe and happy inside their home. It was too human, too soft, too dangerous, so instead, he fell back into his usual refuge of sarcasm, shoving his gentler emotions to the back of his mind where they belonged. 

“Aaaaw, did I interrupt something?”

Mae’s irritated glare was worth it.

 

* * *

 

 

_New York_

_The Next Night_

 

A layover in New York meant sleeping in a fancy hotel, not that he was complaining. One of the benefits of being so deep into his master’s good graces was that he was always a part of his sire’s personal entourage, never far from his side and always welcome to whatever luxuries his sire partook in. He set his champagne flute on an end table, his bare feet making no sound on the plush carpeting. His mate sat on the California King bed, a deck of cards fluttering between her hands as she shuffled them. Some of their other companions were spread around the room, drinking and talking quietly as they passed the time, waiting for the sun to rise so they could finally fall asleep. His sharp eyes ran across the room once more, assessing, looking for threats or any spaces between the heavy curtains. This hotel was old, and was used to accommodating guests of their nature, but that didn’t mean that sabotage was out of the question. Satisfied that nothing was amiss, he climbed onto the bed next to his mate, grinning as he pressed a soft kiss to her neck. His smile turned smug when he felt the shiver travel up her spine, the gentle bumps of her ribs under his hands moving against his palms. She giggled quietly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful atmosphere of the suite.

“What do the cards say tonight, babe?” He whispered, nuzzling her ear with his nose. 

“I was just about to see, love.” She murmured, drawing the first card from the deck. “I’m asking them about you, about what your future holds.” 

“Again?” He asked, curious as to why she was checking his fate over and over.

“The answer keeps changing, and sometimes the results are…alarming. I want to get a steady reading to guide me.” She replied. Within a few moments, three cards lay face up before her on the duvet.

“…What do they mean?” He eventually broke the silence, worried that it was something terrible. For all that his lover had been reading the tarot for decades, he’d never once picked up on any of the meanings. It just went right over his head. 

“This is just a basic three card spread. The first one is the past, then the present, and finally the future. Your past is this card, The Chariot. You always get this one for your past, so I’m not too concerned about it. When The Chariot is upright, it means that there was a great conflict in your past, a crisis that you overcame that shapes your present." 

“I think I know what it’s referring to.” He huffed, darkly amused. When his lover didn’t share in his humor, he became serious once again. “And the next one?”

“Your present is The Knight of Swords.” She tapped the card in question. “He means change, possibly a positive one, but definitely a change that will affect your life forever. While he may look cheerful, he’s still struggling against the wind, see?” She held up the card, showing her lover the picture of a bold knight with a wide grin riding against the wind. “It’s usually a good card, but the change may not be what you expect. It may be more of a challenge than a change.”

“I see. And the last one?”

“Tonight it’s The Hermit in reverse. This one’s a troublesome one when it comes to you, my love.” She sighed. “It usually means that you’re spending too much time alone with your thoughts, away from others, but you’re never so anti-social. There’s a lesser-known meaning, though: you’re not focusing inward enough. If the future goes on unchanged, then you will need to stop and think about who you truly are, otherwise you will fail in your goals.”

He sat silently, studying the picture of a lonely old man as he mulled over her words. While he wasn’t the greatest believer in the mystical powers of the cards, sometimes they gave insights into problems you were already thinking over. He ran his hand up and down her bare arm, thinking about their trip to California tomorrow for the wedding of the Lord of Los Angeles. Their sire had insisted on attending, drawing him from the relative safety of his own court in Europe to what their sire liked to call “the wild frontier” of America. Despite his youthful appearance, their sire was old and wise, cunning and devious. He was worried that their sire intended to start trouble with whoever was in charge of the haven city they were traveling to. No one had bothered to tell them where they were going, not that they cared. All he’d heard was that they were landing somewhere near San Francisco, so he hadn’t paid much attention beyond that. His lover had heard nothing as well, so who knew what they were walking into? He was something of a bodyguard to his sire, so he probably should have listened better. Oh, well.

“So? What do you think, baby? Should I be worried?” He asked, sucking a bruise into her delicate skin. 

“Maybe. Maybe not. It’s been so unclear…” She frowned, leaning into his touches.

“Then let’s not worry about it tonight, okay? Put your cards away, baby, and let’s do something a little more enjoyable, hm?”

With a laugh, he knocked the deck onto the floor, ignoring her squawk about treating her things with respect. He dove beneath her skirt, tugging at her panties as aroused moans began to fill the air, drawing the attention of their companions. They had no qualms about making love in public, and putting on a show was sexy.

They didn’t notice one of their number leaving the room, unwilling to watch his brother fuck his mate, even after all these years. He wasn’t _that_ depraved…yet.

 

* * *

 

 

_Santa Carla_

The wind tangled mariner’s knots in Mae’s hair as she tore through the city, her Ducati Sport 1000 eating up the miles beneath her. Paul had teased her about buying the exact same motorcycle as a character from a movie, but Sam looked so damn good on the bike in “Tron: Legacy” that Mae’s inner nerd had made her dig into her not-insubstantial savings and buy one fresh off the line. She’d even had decals added to the bike to give it the signature blue energy lines from the movie.

Yeah, totally worth the teasing.

Tonight’s theme at Pandemonium had been EDM, the anxiously pulsing beats a fitting match to the growing dread in her gut. Tomorrow, their most important guests arrived: the Romanian coven, the oldest continuously running coven in the world, said to have been formed by the forefather himself: Count Dracula. Few alive could confirm that, of course, but it worked in their favor. In the Old World, titles and bloodlines were _everything_. While Dracula’s only confirmed coven was long dead, the Romanians held staunchly to all the traditions that the vampires who’d moved to the New World had left behind long ago. If vampires could have royalty, they would be it. Of course, royalty meant nothing to Americans, but if you wanted to have any dealings with the upper eastern hemisphere, then you had to go through the Romanians. Túlio, in the tradition of the Los Angeles covens, wanted to keep things friendly with their cousins across the sea, so that meant that the Santa Carla coven had to play nice. Mae honestly couldn’t give two shits about the Romanians, but it meant a lot to her brother to have them taken care of and protected, so she would play the game, and play it well.

She pulled up to the edge of the cliffs above the caves, hiding her bike between two rocks to keep it out of sight of the road. David’s was already parked there, but since she saw no other bikes, she assumed that none of her brothers were there with him. She made sure her ride was stable, then headed down into the caves. David hadn’t told her where to meet him, just to find him when she was finished with her business at Pandemonium. Fucking asshole, he could never make things easy, could he? She’d already been home and back looking for the motherfucker. Normally, her inner monologue wouldn’t be so vitriolic towards her eldest brother, especially when he could hear it through their mental link, but she wasn’t exactly in the mood to give a shit right now. Something brushed against her mind, a sensation not unlike the whisper of fabric against the back of her neck, and Mae rolled her eyes. For some reason, the sensation was David’s mental equivalent of a laugh, meaning he’d heard her loud and clear. She sent some extremely graphic insults his way, only to hear laughter ringing through the caves loud and clear in the real world.

“I didn’t know you could be so crude, sister dear.” David purred, snickering at the last one she sent to him before she stepped into his field of vision.

The blonde was perched on what was once the main couch up at their house, but was now one of the many seats down here in the old hotel. Time had worn the fabric down, with little tufts of cushioning poking out here and there. David still somehow made it look like a throne. Fucking dick.

“I heard that.”

“If I _didn’t_ want you to hear it, David, you wouldn’t have.” Mae sneered, flopping down onto the couch next to her brother, leaning into him and ruining her façade of aloofness.

“That rough a night, huh?” David raised an eyebrow, taking a drag from his cigarette. In the years since Mae had been turned, she had come to mind the smell less and less, but she still insisted that he refrain from smoking inside of the house. Here in the cave, however, he could do as he pleased without worrying about sisterly bitching ruining his fun. 

“You would know if you had been there.” Mae huffed, pulling her legs onto the couch and curling into him more.

“I was meeting with Paul and Calpurnia. Lee spotted some sketchy fuckers lingering around the beaches last night. Dwayne was out with Marko, so we investigated it.” 

“And?”

“Turns out it was nothing, just some idiots who look too furtive for their own good.”

“Oooo! Using the _big_ words tonight, eh?” Mae cackled when David swatted her upside the head, ignoring the pain in favor of enjoying how David’s shoulder relaxed under her cheek. 

“Fuck off.”

“Nah. You’d miss me too much.” 

“It’d be a hell of a lot quieter around here.” David grumbled, not meaning a goddamn word of it.

“Not with Paul around.” Mae grinned, sitting up a bit to meet David’s eyes. 

“…Fair enough.” He relented, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. They sat in silence for a few moments as David’s cigarette gradually burned down to the halfway point.

“Tomorrow’s the big day.” Mae whispered, staring at the fire in one of the oil drums. 

“I thought the big day was on Saturday.” David replied, even though he knew what she was really talking about.

“Frankly, I’d rather it be Saturday now and skip the rest of this week, but that’s not what I meant.” Mae sighed.

“I know.”

“Have you talked to the men? Anyone see anything wrong besides the lurkers? I gotta check in with Casper, see if he’s heard anything. Túlio’s off in San Diego right now, can you believe it? The man can’t stop working, not even on the week of his own goddamn wedding. It’s in three days, you know! If he doesn’t make it up here in time I’m gonna wring his fucking neck!” Mae growled. Her habit of talking so fast that the words almost melted into each other hadn’t faded with the decades, despite her prolonged absence from the rush of big city life. “And Lukas hasn’t sent me that update on the alcohol, I’m gonna need a shitload to get through dealing with the smarmy bastards tomorrow, and I don’t even have a list of who’s coming! Not even _Marko_ knows who’s coming, and he’s _Marko!_ Sato said something about the Brazilians nearly causing a riot at the pier, I swear to god if they repeat the Houston incident I’m gonna…”

Mae’s words were cut off when David grabbed her chin, making her look at him. He held her gaze, forcing her to remain still and silent until the tension bled out of her body. It was one of the more effective ways of quieting one of her notorious rants, but he used it sparingly, so the effect wouldn’t diminish. A flicker of smug satisfaction flashed through his mind; he had a way with people, and he knew it, using his natural magnetism to draw even the oldest of his friends in with just his eyes. He felt Mae swallow, the sound thick in the relative silence of the cave.

The moment was broken when a log snapped inside the oil drum, the dry wood breaking apart as it burned up. Mae blinked, breaking out of the trance, her wide-eyed gaze replaced with a glare.

“You fucking asshole. You know I _hate_ it when you do that!” She huffed, barely stopping herself from crossing her arms like a child.

“You weren’t going to stop any time soon, and I was getting tired of seeing you talk yourself into circles. Relax. The night’s nearly over, and we’re as ready as we’re going to be. We can handle it. All you need to worry about is talking pretty and keeping yourself from judging them too obviously.” David smirked, thinking of all the times flowery words had spilled from Mae’s lips while, through their blood bond, she’d shit talked her current victim to her brothers with a vitriol David had to admire.

“I’ll do my best.” Mae leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling of the cave.

“I know you will. I don’t say this a lot, Mae, but you play the game so well that you could have fooled even me if I’d never met you before.” He raised his cigarette to his lips, the death stick on its last legs.

“What’s this? A compliment? From the ice king himself? Has hell frozen over or something?” Mae teased, poking at David’s side while he stoically ignored her literal ribbing.

When she realized she was being ignored, Mae ramped up her attack, squirming onto her knees and poking at David’s face, all the stresses of the day pushed to the side in favor of breaking her brother’s mask of indifference. David managed another two draws from his cigarette before finally breaking, taking a deep inhale before blowing a thick cloud of smoke directly onto Mae’s face. Her squawk of indignation and frantic arm waving drew a loud bout of laughter from his lips. By the time the smoke had dispersed, Mae was giving him a death stare that could kill even the strongest of men, but was useless against him. Frankly, she looked more like a disgruntled kitten than a serious threat. When he made to take a last pull from his cigarette, Mae snatched it out of his hands, holding it just out of his reach.

“Mae…?” His head tilted slightly to the side, his eyes narrowing even as he raised an eyebrow, a sign that his patience was running dangerously low. He held out his hand, the closest he would come to asking for his cigarette back. 

Instead of either handing it over or doing something stupid (like tossing it into the fountain), Mae put the paper to her lips, breathing in the nicotine-laced smoke and holding it in her mouth. She tossed the useless remains aside, leaning down to hover a hairsbreadth over David’s mouth. For a brief second, it looked like David’s lips would remain pressed together, but then he parted them, breathing in as Mae breathed out, shotgunning the last of the cigarette. Some of the vapor escaped, pouring down his jaw and down to his neck before finally dissipating. Mae leaned back, watching as David exhaled with a satisfied hum.

Despite her movements, they were still awfully close together, close enough to feel the breaths they only ever took out of habit blowing against their cheeks. They let the moment linger, the unspoken question hovering in the air between their chests. It was Mae who broke the tension, leaning back in once more, a shiver of delight racing down her spine as her lips just barely touched David’s. 

“…Goodnight, David.” She whispered, pulling away and standing up, heading back up the stairs towards the fading night. It was neither the time nor the place for such things, and they both knew it. Still, the chase was often the best part of the hunt, and anticipation only made the feast more delicious. 

“Goodnight, Mae.” David murmured, knowing that she could hear him despite the growing distance. He fished his pack from his pocket, knocking out another cigarette, the click of the lighter loud in the silence. Mae wasn’t wrong; tomorrow was a big day, and he would take his peace where he could get it. 

Up on the cliffs, Mae was just about to start the engine when the sound of shitty Top 40 music reached her ears. She scanned the horizon, spotting a fire a mile away, far too close to the caves for comfort. Some frat boys, it looked like, entertaining their dates. Hmph. The Surf Nazis might be gone, but new idiots had come to take their place. Mae pulled out her phone and checked the time. Huh. She had a few hours to spare before she _really_ needed to be home, and she hadn’t had a fresh meal in ages. 

With a feral grin, Mae left her bike behind, taking a running leap off the cliffs before flying towards the bonfire.

 

She was a sucker for late-night snacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me at unchainmesister.tumblr.com!


	3. Unwelcome Guests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tonight is the second most important night of the wedding week, and Mae has driven herself half-mad making sure that things will go smoothly, to the point that most of her brothers won't dare to question her methods. Everything is in place, and hopefully, the night will go smoothly, but when has anything EVER gone smoothly for the vampires of Santa Carla?
> 
> Introductions are made, but some of the visitors have been here before. 
> 
> Judas returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this chapter is so short. I needed to set things up, but I also felt like adding more would make this chapter unbalanced and ruin the impact. The next one will hopefully take less time. Things are rough as usual around here, and the creative juices have been trickling rather than flowing. As always, comments keep my dark soul thriving, so please let me know what you think!

“Remind we have to do this again?” Paul groaned, pulling at the collar of his jacket.

“Because if we don’t play nice, we’ll start an international incident.” Dwayne smacked his brother upside the head, if only to stop his fidgeting.

“But what do _we_ care? Screw the world! I’m getting tired of all this shit.” Paul snarled and tried to punch his brother, but Dwayne easily dodged him. 

“I don’t care either, but have you tried telling that to _Mae_?” Dwayne nodded pointedly at their sister, who was standing several feet away, giving Lukas some last minute instructions at the bar.

Paul said nothing. Dwayne’s point had been made.

Tonight would be the second most difficult night of the week, topped only by the wedding itself: they’d be playing host to the Romanian coven, the most powerful coven in the entire world. While the brothers cared little for Santa Carla’s part in international politics, they knew objectively that if things didn’t go well, Mae would wring their necks. The important part would be to make sure that their guests had a formal welcome (because apparently that was a _thing_ with ancient vampires), a nice dinner, maybe some dancing, then back to their hotel to wait for the wedding in two days. It sounded simple, like having to deal with the in-laws on Thanksgiving…if your in-laws could rip your intestines out with their bare hands. Mae had been drilling what they could and _could not_ do into their heads for weeks, to the point that Paul was sure that his ears would bleed out if he heard the phrase ‘When in doubt, just smile and keep quiet’ one more time. At least Mae and David were in charge of the _actual_ niceties, not them. Dwayne and Paul weren’t stupid by any means, but this pretentious courtier act was over their pay grade. 

The reception, as it were, would be held at Pandemonium, the most neutral ground in their fair city. Lukas had made sure the place was clean and tidy yesterday after the evening crowd had left, stocking up on good wine and top-tier blood. Most of the wedding guests had arrived, with just a few set to land the next day. A few members of each party were present at the club, milling about and chatting as they waited to greet (or rather, get in the good graces of) the newcomers. All of Dwayne’s men were present, pistols strapped to their sides, loaded with silver bullets, and slim wooden stakes tucked into their boots or pockets. Paul had pulled Vic and Kai from field duty, the two already outside the small bed and breakfast the Romanians had taken over for the duration of their stay.

Besides Lukas, Marko had Calpurnia by his side in the club, as she was the only one of the Santa Carla vampires to have ever met the Romanians before. She didn’t talk about it often, but Calpurnia was perhaps the oldest vampire in the New World, born at the end of the Roman Empire to upper class parents and turned in her early twenties. Her insight was invaluable, and Mae had spent many hours in conference with Marko’s top agent. Dwayne’s visual sweep of the place found nothing amiss, so he turned back to Paul, who was texting someone, probably Kai.

“What’s the word?”

“They’re nearly ready to ride over. Kai’s made contact. He’ll be leading them here. Seems like the fancy fuckers are renting a limo. Figures. Vic is already on his way; he’ll be setting up on the roof just outside. I’ll let Mae know.” Paul clapped Dwayne on the shoulder before weaving his way through the crowd to his little sister.

“Hey sis. The package is on its way, or whatever you wanna call ‘em.” Paul whispered, grabbing the beer that Lukas had immediately opened for the blonde as soon as he saw him coming over.

“Right on time. Okay, Lukas, keep an eye on the guests. I don’t think any of them will try to pull anything, but you never know. Vic should be up on the roof by now, brother. See if he’s there, please.” Mae kissed Paul’s cheek before heading towards the door.

“Sato. Aminah. With me, please.”

As Mae neared the entrance, two figures detached themselves from the shadows around the edge of the room. Sato and Aminah were of a height, both of them tall and imposing in their own ways. Sato exuded a cold and calculating aura, his shrewd eyes instantly picking up on every single weakness on his opponent instantly. Aminah was both taller and broader than your average woman, thanks in part to her Samoan heritage. The fact that neither of them looked like traditional bodyguards was the whole point; Mae wanted to make a statement, that the coven’s looks may be deceiving, but beneath their varied faces and statures was an indomitable strength that was difficult to defeat. All of Dwayne’s soldiers were dressed the same, in carefully fitted suits that, while fashionable, allowed for maximum movement and flexibility. Their hidden pockets were lined with all kinds of weapons for every situation. Mae heard the telltale sounds of Aminah slipping a pair of brass knuckles disguised as rings onto her fingers and smiled. Out of all the Enforcers, Aminah was her favorite. Mae liked a girl who could knock her lights out.

A bouncer opened the door for them, a rush of warm summer air fighting against the air conditioning of the bar. Mae’s heels clicked against the concrete as she made her way to the edge of the sidewalk, hearing the distant sound of cars approaching. She glanced up at the rooftop across from her, catching Vic’s cheerful wave and acknowledging it with a slight nod. Besides the four of them, there was no one outside, although Mae was sure that some wanderers were skulking around nearby, eager to see the equivalent of vampire royalty exit their car. Humans were all alike, even when they weren’t human anymore.

It took only a minute for the vehicles to appear, a line of four driving carefully down the semi-abandoned street. Lukas had put his little establishment firmly in the middle of an empty industrial district, as far away from the lights and sounds of the city as possible without going off the power grid. The police were carefully mesmered into avoiding this part of town, and a few well-paid guards were always roaming the streets at night to make sure that any humans wandering around found themselves turning back. No one with a rapid heartbeat would be bothering them tonight.

The first car pulled up, a long limo with tinted windows sliding to a stop right before Mae. A man stepped out of the passenger door, walking quickly around the car to open up the back door for its occupants. Behind them, the other three cars parked as well, a handful of guards and hangers-on exiting the vehicles. The man from the limo opened the door, letting out Kai, who smiled at Mae before standing aside to allow the guests of honor out. A young man exited the car first, dressed in a suit that looked right of the runways of Milan, a bespoke masterpiece that mixed Victorian elegance with modern sensibilities. His hair was artfully mussed, his piercing green eyes a frightening mixture of haunted and calculating. He appeared unhealthily gaunt, perhaps a remnant of the era of his birth. He turned back to the car and helped his companion out, a woman with an almost cherubic beauty, with eyes as equally haunting as the man’s. Her pale hair hung in loose waves around her face, trailing down the front of her burgundy dress. Like her companion, she was dressed in a mix of modern and Victorian elegance, an almost off-putting combination of past and present. Their retainers gathered to Mae’s right, the man who’d opened the door for them moving to stand to his master’s left, obviously a bodyguard of some kind. Mae stepped forwards, offering a small bow before extending her hand to the woman first.

“Welcome to Santa Carla, my friends. I am Mae, sister of the king, and these are two of our guardsmen, Aminah and Sato. I trust that Kai led you here with no trouble.” Mae’s voice was soft and sweet, but her eyes were assessing, examining her guests just as they were examining her.

“A pleasure to meet you, _draga mea_.” The woman shook Mae’s hand, her grip firm but gentle. 

“If we had known that Santa Carla’s vampires were such gracious hosts, we would have come to visit much sooner.” The man added, taking Mae’s hand and kissing it with a perfect gentlemanly manner. “I am Teodor, and this is my mate, Cosmina. We are delighted to make your acquaintance.”

“If I had known that Romania’s vampires were such flattering guests, we would have invited them to our city much sooner.” Mae replied, her smile genuine. While she knew the two ancient vampires were assessing her for weakness, their words were truthful, not flattery, which was a point in their favor.

Cosmina laughed, slipping her arm through Teodor’s.

“Oh my! Such manners! Have I not said that Americans are a truly charming people, _lubirea_ _mea_?” Cosmina giggled, looking adoringly at her mate.

“Yes, my love.” Teodor smiled indulgently at his mate before turning back to Mae.

“Shall we go inside? Once you’ve met my brothers, I’ve arranged for drinks and dancing, if you’re so inclined. Several members of the various covens visiting our city for the wedding are here, so if you’d like to leave without being bothered, I’m afraid I don’t have very many options for you.” Mae smiled apologetically.

“That’s quite all right. I think it is better to speak with them now than on the night of Túlio’s wedding. Talk will inevitably turn to business, so it is best to get that out of the way instead of clouding the joyous mood with talk of politics.” Teodor waved away her concern, following her as Mae led them back inside.

The bouncers opened the door, allowing Mae and her guests into the bar. Inside, the music had been switched on, the singer of She Wants Revenge chanting about dark romance and obsession. The crowd parted as Mae led the way, Aminah and Sato peeling off from the party to retake their stations against the wall. David was sitting on an elegant chair on the small raised platform that usually housed the DJ, but was empty for now. On the stairs leading up to the stage was Marko, standing to David’s left, while Paul stood on the same step to David’s right. Dwayne was standing on the stage next to David, always by his oldest friend’s side. David was in conversation with his lieutenant, while Marko and Paul were scanning the crowd to make sure no one made a run for the newcomers. Mae stopped in front of the stage, moving to the side so that Teodor and Cosmina could stand directly before her brother. Their entourage fanned out behind them, a handful of men and women who exuded nobility and feral darkness in equal measure. Mae glanced up at her brother, receiving a nod in return, her cue to make the introductions.

“Brother, may I introduce the King and Queen of the Romanian coven, Teodor and his mate, Cosmina.” Mae gestured at the man and woman at her side, who both stepped forwards and offered nods of their head to David, who returned it with one of his own.

“Teodor, Cosmina, may I present my brother, David, the King of Santa Carla.” Mae made the same sweeping gesture towards her family. “May I also present my brothers Dwayne, Marko, and Paul, blood brothers of the king and captains of our coven.”

David stood from his seat, walking silently down the steps until he stood face to face with Teodor and Cosmina, offering Teodor his hand to shake.

“Welcome to Santa Carla. While you’re here, you’re under our personal protection, you and your family. I hope you enjoy your stay.” David said with all the grace and charm of a movie star in a period film. Mae felt a warm glow of pride deep in her chest, along with no small amount of relief that things seemed to be going well.

“Thank you, my friend. I look forward to our time here, and thank you for your hospitality.” Teodor replied, shaking David’s hand firmly. Despite his thick accent, his words were easily understood.

“A pleasure, _draga mea_. From what we have seen, your city is a most intriguing place.” Cosmina smiled, shaking David’s hand as well. Whatever ‘ _draga mea_ ’ meant, it seemed to be her favorite term for those outside her family. Interesting. Mae made a mental note to look it up later.

“Thank you. We have our moments.” David grinned, his teeth gleaming in the low light.

“Shall I have drinks brought over?” Mae offered. “We have just about everything here. I’m sure you’re tired from your journey.”

“We would be most appreciative, _draga mea_.” Cosmina smiled, slipping her arm around Teodor’s waist, his hand moving almost automatically to rest over hers. She was about to say more, but was interrupted by a glass dropping by the bar.

Time froze.

Maybe it was the low lighting of the club, interspersed with the relative brightness of the decorative lamps on the table. Maybe it was the music, the rhythm so driving and intense that it demanded attention above all else. Maybe they’d grown soft in their years of peace. Maybe it was everything and nothing at all. They were never quite sure how they missed it, how they came up short. All they _did_ know was that they missed the viper in their nest, discovering it only when it was too late.

“David?” 

Every eye in the room turned to the speaker, his voice breaking with confusion and disbelief. By his side, a woman gasped, her hands covering her mouth as she tried not to scream. Behind them, another man’s gaze hardened, but he surprisingly said nothing. Mae turned to her brothers, about to ask if they knew the man, only to rush forward to restrain Paul, who’s eyes had gone acid yellow with hatred, his fangs flashing in the dim lighting. David placed a hand on Dwayne’s arm, stopping him from moving, while Marko stood in place, momentarily shocked. No one dared to move or speak. Even the music seemed to quiet of its own volition...until David spoke one word.

 

“Michael.”

 

Judas had returned to the scene of the crime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me at unchainmesister.tumblr.com!


	4. Diplomatic Immunity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laws are there to protect you, even from yourself. 
> 
> Sometimes, though, you just want to give the laws the finger and do what needs to be done. Sadly, that only ever leads to trouble. 
> 
> So we're at an impasse, it seems, but something sinister looms on the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my dearies! Shit, remind me to never say that again. Anyway, I'm sorry this took so long, but here it is! Please let me know what you think. Comments feed my dark soul! Muahahahahaaaa!

“MURDERER!”

Paul’s scream of rage drowned out the music, startling even the most stoic of Dwayne’s guard. He pushed against Mae’s arms, trying to get at the man who had nearly killed his entire family forever. Mae was lucky that The Widow’s blood made her stronger than her brother, but his anger gave him a strength that rivaled Dwayne’s at his most powerful, and Mae was losing the battle. She desperately threw a mental shout at David, who, without looking away from the traitor in their midst, gave Paul a quiet command.

“Stand down, Paul.”

Mae barely held back her sigh of relief when Paul went limp, his eyes still burning with fury as he continued to snarl at Michael. Satisfied that he would stay still for now, Mae carefully signaled to Sparrow, Paul’s top agent, to keep an eye on her captain. The girl nodded, edging closer, ready to intervene if need be, but letting her boss have his space. With that taken care of, Mae straightened her jacket and stepped forward, forcing herself to remain diplomatic. Now that she knew that the man who had nearly destroyed her brothers was mere inches away, she wanted nothing more than to end his dismal existence, but her hands were tied; the laws were absolute, even for the king of the city.

“What is the meaning of this, _draga mea_?” Cosmina asked quietly, her delicate face twisted by a confused frown. Teodor nodded in agreement, letting his mate’s question stand.

“Three of your companions are guilty of conspiring to, and nearly succeeding at, killing my brothers over 30 years ago.” Mae replied, her voice even, despite the hatred burning in her eyes as she glared at Michael. “They fled the city before justice could be done upon them; however, at the time, they believed that they had, in fact, killed them.”

“You were not a Way Station at the time, were you?” Teodor asked, his voice quiet.

“No, we were not.” Mae forced herself to remain calm. She glanced at Teodor, disappointed to see the almost smug glint to his eyes. Shit. She knew the Europeans wouldn’t be trustworthy, but this was just pushing it. 

“Then I’m afraid we are at an impasse. You see, Emilian is my personal bodyguard, and while change is necessary for progress, I’ve become rather used to him, and I do so hate shopping for a new guardian.” Teodor’s face remained impassive, but the triumph was there all the same. Mae didn’t dare to look at her brothers’ reactions, for fear of losing her own composure.

“Emilian?” David’s voice rang out for the first time since this whole fiasco began. There was a mocking edge in his words as he finally stood, making his way down the stairs to stop in front of Michael. “Going by a new name, I see. Or did you just never tell them?” 

His disdainful eyes fell to the woman next to Michael, who Mae assumed was Star. “And what name do you hide under now, Star? I thought you wanted to escape this life, and yet here you are, neck deep in it.” He then turned to the youngest of the group, a man barely into his twenties, his eyes growing even colder. “Sam, Sam, Sam…you personally had a hand in killing _two_ of my brothers. If anything, I expected you to be a hunter with your little friends. Whatever happened to them, I wonder?”

“Ileana is my companion, and Andrei accompanies his brother and his mate whenever they travel with us.” Cosmina interjected, turning an almost apologetic frown to Mae. “When they came to us, they never gave us their names, so we gave them ones that suited them best. Not once did I think that they were hiding such a grim past, but I’m afraid I must agree with my mate: this is a haven city, and they are not yours to punish. The past is in the past, is it not?”

Mae felt Paul’s rage grow, but thankfully, David’s command kept him still. Dwayne remained as still as a statue by David’s chair, while Marko’s eyes darted restlessly around the room. She knew from experience that her boyfriend was thinking of every possible way to get around this, but Mae wasn’t the expert diplomat of their coven for nothing; she knew his search would be fruitless. Unless Michael and his friends broke the laws of the city during their stay, they were left with no options that wouldn’t bring the wrath of the Councils down on them, and it seemed like Teodor and Cosmina were unwilling to give up their favored pets to David’s justice. David knew this as well as she did. Mae could only hope that Michael was still as stupid now as he was back then.

She hated the smell of it, but for once, Mae _wanted_ to taste the acrid stench of vampiric ash on her tongue as he died in flames.

“The past, if forgotten, is doomed to be repeated, Cosmina.” David answered with a short nod at the petite woman. “You and your guests are already under our protection, and we haven’t survived this long by thinking with our teeth instead of our brains. However…” He turned back to Michael, Star, and Sam.

“No matter what names you’re hiding behind now, no matter who your patrons are, step one foot out of line, and nothing will save you. The moment the wedding is over, I expect all of you to be out of my city before the sky finishes turning black, do you understand?” 

Cosmina interrupted before things could get worse. “Of course, David. This _is_ your city, after all, and while we have no quarrel with you, I can assure you that we wouldn’t want to impose our subjects upon you for longer than necessary.” She smiled and took her husband’s hand. “I feel quite tired after our journey, Teodor. Shall we retire?”

For all that Cosmina was as conniving and devious as her mate, Mae was grateful for her tact. Teodor had seemed ready to test David’s limits, and the women knew that if they were allowed to continue, they would tear each other apart, to the detriment of all. David’s reply was a sharp nod before he returned to his seat, watching as the Romanians and their retinue slowly filed out of the bar, several of the representatives of the other covens following them now that the drama was over. 

Michael was one of the first to leave, still shaken, with Star following close behind. Sam, however, was one of the last, and he turned back to look at the four vampires he’d once thought to be gone forever. His gaze lingered on Mae, the one he’d never seen before. He could see her fierce loyalty towards her brothers, her hatred of him and his family, and the icy intelligence lingering behind her façade of diplomacy. David was still the one he feared the most, but this one…this one was worth watching out for, more so than all the others. He hadn’t seen her in action before. He had no idea what she would do, and that was a frightening idea. Sam wanted nothing more than to fly back to Romania that very night, but sadly, that wasn’t impossible. He had a feeling that things were bound to get worse for him and his brother before they got better.

Just before the door closed, he saw Marko’s arm slip around her waist as she leaned her head against his shoulder. Interesting. Very interesting. Sam hadn’t lived this long without learning a few things, and this…well, this could be _very_ useful indeed.

The door closed, and Sam smiled as he followed his brother back into the car.

 

* * *

 

“Nash, I want this place empty in five minutes.”

David’s order was met with a grim nod as Nash went to work, following his king’s orders. Not many of the visitors had lingered after the Romanian’s left, eager to report their findings to their higher-ups, but a few had remained, perhaps wanting to see what David would do once they’d gone. They were left disappointed as Nash, Aminah, and Murtagh firmly but politely ushered the remaining guests out. When the only people left in the bar were members of the Santa Carla coven, David signaled for the door to be locked. Sato stationed himself near the doors, still well within hearing range, but close enough to the exit that he could hear someone coming before they attempted to force their way in.

Vic had slipped in before Sato had latched to doors, and those who were present gathered around their master. Lukas, Calpurnia, and Caleb gathered near Marko, while Nash, Aminah, Murtagh, and Jamie kept themselves spread around the bar, half an ear open for threats, as always. Vic, Kai, and Sparrow kept a close eye on Paul; their captain was the most visibly distressed of them all, and they worried that he would do something rash once David let go of his command. Mae unlocked her phone, initiating a group call with Quinn, Red, Lee, and Trip, who were still ranging around the city. Once they were on the line, she nodded at David, who crossed one leg over the other, his features grim in the low lighting.

“You’ve all proven yourselves loyal beyond a doubt, even when it would serve you better to turn on us all. I may not have sired you, but I would lay down my life for you, just like I would for my own flesh and blood.” He began, meeting their gazes with something like pride buried behind the rage. “I’ve never asked you about your pasts, and you’ve never asked about ours, even though I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors by now. We’ve never told you the story because we thought that the past was buried and gone. It looks like we were wrong. What I’m about to tell you stays within this family, am I clear?” 

A chorus of affirmatives broke the tense air, then faded away.

“Good. If you want all the gory details, Marko can tell you them later, but the short version goes like this: my sire, Max, always wanted a perfect little family. When he finally found a woman that suited his desires, he ordered us to ensnare her sons. The youngest, Sam, wouldn’t go easily, so we started with Michael, the oldest. He seemed like the perfect candidate, except for one fatal flaw: he was too weak. Weak to desire, weak to flirtation, weak to power. We had picked up Star, the woman you saw with them, at Max’s request some time earlier, and she had the same weaknesses. With the help of some local kids who fancied themselves vampire hunters, they decided that in order for them to be free, we needed to die. Sam and the hunter kids found our lair and staked Marko, escaping before we could capture them. The sun was out, and trying to save Marko was more important. The stake missed his heart, so instead of disintegrating, he lost all the blood in his system. That was their first mistake.” 

Mae slipped her hand into Marko’s, the movement subtle and nearly unnoticeable. She felt her boyfriend lean ever-so-slightly closer, the only comfort he would dare to take in front of his men. He had to be strong, but the memories of his death still frightened him to the core all these years later. Caleb, the closest, shifted a bit closer to his captain, while Calpurnia and Lukas didn’t bother to hold back the snarls distorting their faces. Despite the pain the retelling was causing him, it pleased David to see such open loyalty and care from his soldiers. 

“The minute the sun set, we rode out to get our revenge. Max was out with Michael’s mother, so he couldn’t stop us, not that anything short of death would have stopped us. Killing them should have been easy, but our anger made us careless. As far as we knew, Marko was gone, and even if it killed us, we’d destroy them. That recklessness cost us. Paul was the next to die; they drowned him in a bathtub filled with holy water.”

All eyes went to Paul next, who was shivering with fear at just the thought of it all. His death had been long and painful compared to the others’. Sparrow and Kai each took one of his hands, accepting Paul’s grateful smile with one of their own. Unlike the others, he didn’t care if his men saw him as anything less than perfect. He’d take the comfort any day. Vic took a moment to school his face into something other than pure fury at the thought of his captain’s demise before placing a hand on Paul’s shoulder in quiet solidarity. 

“Dwayne nearly got Sam, but they got the drop on him, pinning him to a stereo system. The surge of electricity caused an explosion.” David let them fill in the blanks. He spared a glance at Dwayne’s men, who didn’t move closer to their captain, unlike the others. Dwayne’s soldiers were just like him: stoic in the face of fear and pain, silent and calm. The only outward sign that they were affected was their eyes, which were acid yellow as they fought back a transformation. A murderous shadow loomed over them, each wanting nothing more than to lay siege to the Romanian’s lair until the ones who had dared to come for their captain lay dead in a grave of ash and blood.

“I fought Michael myself, but with the deaths of my brothers, I wasn’t at my best. Maybe it was luck. Maybe it was the devil himself. I don’t know what it was, but he threw me into a pile of antlers. Even though they got me in the heart, they didn’t kill me. I lay there, in pain, pretending to be dead, hoping that I’d get a chance to pull myself free. Instead, Max returned, seemingly unconcerned that his entire coven was gone. Michael’s fucking grandfather killed him, and the entire family left the house to recover. I’m not sure how long it took, but I rescued pieces of my brothers and made it back to the cave before sunrise. It took months and gallons of blood to resurrect them, but here we are now. Alive. By the time we were able to leave the cave, Michael and his family were long gone. We never thought we’d hear from them again, and we had no way to find them. Our revenge would be left unfulfilled, but we were alive.”

His tale done, David leaned back, watching the reactions of his coven. He heard soft cursing from Mae’s phone, Quinn’s deep baritone nearly drowned out by Lee’s colorful insults. Aminah’s fists were clenched so tightly that her nails had pierced her skin, blood leaking from the wounds. Sparrow and Kai exchanged worried looks, but said nothing. Jamie swore in a language none of them spoke. He let them digest the information, knowing that it was a lot to take in. Calpurnia and Lukas were whispering so quietly that even vampiric hearing had a hard time understanding them, but he heard a few words here and there, comparing the rumors to the truth. Mae’s hand was clenched around her phone so hard that she was in danger of breaking it, and Marko took it from her to keep her from crushing the plastic and metal. The movement caught Vic’s eye, who finally broke the uneasy silence.

“Then what do we do now, David?” He asked quietly. 

“For now? Nothing. Our hands are tied if we want to keep things peaceful.” David met the incredulous stares of his soldiers with an even gaze.

“That’s it? We do nothing!?” Murtagh growled. He was the most volatile of Dwayne’s men, and it showed. 

“My job is to keep the city, and everyone in it, safe. If we start a war with the Romanians, we’ll bring down the wrath of the other cities and probably half of Europe. I learned a long time ago that family is more important than revenge. I won’t risk your lives on the mere chance that we can kill Michael and the others. It isn’t worth it. _They_ aren’t worth it.” David answered.

The room fell quiet as his words sank in: for all that he wanted revenge, David’s family was more important, and his coven was his family. This level of loyalty from a leader was something most of them had never really had. The pressure eased, just a little bit, as grim faces were graced with smiles. 

“The fact that you are all willing to fight for me and my brothers is an honor I don’t take lightly, but we can’t make any rash moves. Their trespass can never be forgiven, but we’ve prospered for thirty years, while they remain the pets of masters who only see them as pawns in a game. I want them dead just as much as you do, believe me, but seeing them cower behind their masters’ coattails is satisfying enough for now.” David paused, then, after a moment, a dark, malicious grin spread across David’s face. 

“And besides, maybe Michael will make a mistake. He’s spent years living in luxury, free from the consequences of his actions here. We might just get our chance after all.”

He looked around the room once more, pride swelling in his blackened heart as he saw smiles turn wicked, sharp fangs and flashing yellow eyes displaying the monster deep inside his men. Yes, they could wait. Wait and watch.

After all, vampires had nothing but time on their hands.

 

* * *

 

“Is this wise?”

“Nothing is _wise_ , my dear." 

“Cut the shit, guys. Are we still doing this or not?”

“Of course we are. This isn’t even a setback. It’s an advantage.”

“Good. I’ve worked too hard on this to watch you guys back out now.

“Relax, my friend. All will be well. All good things to those who wait.”

“Don’t make me wait much longer, _friend_." 

“I won’t, my dear. I won’t.”

 

* * *

 

“I don’t know what to do, Viejo. We can’t move against them, but we can’t let this go unpunished.”

“ _We_ can’t, or _you_ can’t, Chiquita?”

“…What’s the difference?”

“Everything, _hermanita_. From what you’ve told me, David is willing to let things go, so to speak.” Túlio’s voice was soft and quiet, partially because of the phone, but mostly because he didn’t want to wake Casper. He leaned against the doorway of their hotel room in San Diego, watching his fiancé sleep. “There are more important things than revenge. He’s a wise man under all that brooding and leather.”

Mae’s laugh made him smile, but its brevity brought him back down to earth again.

“Túlio…you should have seen them. They were _shaken_ , Viejo. Even David, not that he’d ever admit it out loud. Paul was the worst. I forget how young he is compared to the others. He shouldn’t be afraid of anything. You know, he still refuses to use the second floor bathroom. There are days I want to just remodel the whole thing, but I don’t know if he’d forgive me for it.” Mae’s words were rapid as she began to fall further down her tangent.

“Mae, breathe. It will take time, but they’ll recover from this. They’re strong. It’s why you love them, no?” Túlio sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll see if I can find any loopholes, but I don’t think there are any. Just try to remain calm, Chiquita, and in two days, they’ll be out of your lives again, for good, I hope.”

“It’s your wedding, Viejo! Don’t worry about it. Shit, I shouldn’t have even bothered you with this, but who else can I trust to tell me when I’m being an idiot?”

Túlio laughed. “Your boyfriend, maybe?”

“Oh, don’t even get me started on him, Viejo. He’s just as moody as the rest of them.”

“Are you sure you’re not just mad at him because he won’t propose?”

“…I will spike your drink with holy water if you say one word about it to him!”

“But it’s been thirty years, _hermanita_. You should be able to talk to him about it.”

“You _know_ why I can’t, Viejo! Just drop it, please?”

“All right, all right.” Túlio sighed, grumbling as he switched his phone to his other ear. “But don’t expect me to just sit here quietly and wait while he makes my sister miserable!”

“Túlio…”

“Fine, fine, fine! Go get some sleep, Mae. This will all be over soon enough. David is right: family is more important than revenge. If I know anything about Romania, just living there is punishment enough.” Mae’s laugh was genuine this time, and it warmed Túlio’s heart to hear her finally start to relax. “Goodnight, Chiquita.”

“Goodnight, Viejo. I love you.”

“I love you too. More than anything.”

Túlio waited until she’d hung up before looking back at the bed, unsurprised to see Casper awake and watching him.

“Everything all right?”

“No, not really, _mi amor_.”

Silently, Casper lifted the covers, inviting his fiancé in. Túlio slid into the bed, curling up in Casper’s arms, letting himself be comforted.

“There’s a shadow hanging over your head, my love.” Casper whispered, burying his face in Túlio’s hair. 

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s everything.”

“…I’m afraid. Afraid for my sister.”

“Then we’ll protect her, my love, like we always do.” Casper replied, as if that was the answer to all their problems. 

“Something tells me it won’t be that easy, _mi amor_.”

“Nothing is ever ease, Túlio, but we survive. We always will.”

“And the rumors? The premonitions? What if they’re true?”

“Then we will survive those too.”

“Ah, if only I had your confidence, Calaca.”

“If nothing else, you have my love, Túlio.” Casper smiled, pulling Túlio as close as possible.

“…As you have mine, Casper.”

 

* * *

 

 

If only things were that simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me at unchainmesister.tumblr.com!


	5. Evacuate The Dance Floor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, something good is happening: Túlio and Casper (and their entourage) are finally here! Mae would be beside herself with happiness if it weren't for the shadow looming over them all. Her brother brings only bad news, and after a week like this, bad news is the last thing anyone needs. 
> 
> Whispers of a conspiracy, an unpleasant encounter with the enemy, and nothing but guesses as to what is to come make for a very stressful night. 
> 
> You don't need the pale moonlight to dance with the devil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one came out super long, which I'm actually REALLY happy about! I hope you all enjoy it! As always, comments and kudos feed the beast! Thank you for all your support!

_“Remind me why we have to do this again?”_

It was like Paul was a broken record, asking the same questions over and over, day after day, but strangely, none of his brothers called him out on it. Paul wasn’t as dumb as he pretended to be around strangers; if he was repeating himself, it either meant that the situation was beyond even his considerable, if hidden, intellect, or he was stressed out. Given the events of the last week, especially last night, it was definitely the latter. Dwayne was just glad that Paul hadn’t said it out loud this time, given the delicate position they were all in now. He didn’t turn away from Nash, instead answering his brother with a thought. 

_“Because it’s part of the plan, Paul. This was all put together months ago, and if we don’t want to look weak, we have to follow through. If we change things now, everyone will know it’s because of_ them _.”_ The last word was said with so much contempt that Paul shuddered across the room.

_“Oh.”_

_“You’ll be all right, Paul. I promise. Just hang around Lee and Murtagh. You guys get along, right?”_

_“You know we do.”_

_“Then stick with them and just try to ignore the fact that_ they’re _here.”_

_“Okay. Got it.”_

_“…And if you need me, I’m here, brother. I’m not going anywhere.”_

_“…Thank you, bro.”_

“You zoning out, boss?” Nash grinned, although his eyes darted around the room, always looking for a threat or a security breach.

“Nah, just talking to my brother. Everything set up?” Dwayne gave himself a mental shake, looking around the warehouse.

“Yeah. I brought in everyone, and I mean _everyone_. I’m not risking anything tonight.” Nash growled. “Some of the younger ones are raring to fight, though. Kai, for one. Red and Sparrow having been huddling together ever since they got here, and that’s never a good thing.”

“I’ll have Marko sort them out. As for Kai, send him over to Jamie. She’s good with kids.”

“He’d be so mad if he heard you call him that!” Nash laughed, his posture relaxing by a fraction or two. Dwayne’s lieutenant was usually quick with a smile and a laugh, but tonight he was glowering so darkly that a few fledglings had nearly pissed themselves just from the sight of him. 

“It’s the truth and we all know it. The kid’s the baby of bunch, now. Paul’s so happy that he’s got someone to lord that over now.” Dwayne grinned at Nash, who remembered how much teasing Kai had gone through once he’d joined the coven. Mae had shut down Paul’s ‘big brother’ talk ages ago, so he’d been in need of a new victim for years.

Their laughter died out all too soon, though, and Nash pulled his hair back into a ponytail, needing the long locks out of his face, just in case there was a fight after all. Dwayne left his loose, as always. The coven was once again dressed in military style, the soldiers in matching jackets with the laughing skull, while Mae had bullied her brothers into more refined versions of their usual outfits. Dwayne cast an appraising eye around the warehouse one more time while he sent Nash off to check the perimeter again, taking in the crowd and all the possible threats to his family’s safety. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he headed for the small stage that had been set up towards the back of the space, somewhat reminded of that fateful night decades ago when they defeated The Widow and her children.

Tonight was the night before the wedding, and Túlio, Casper, and their party were due to arrive at any moment. It was kind of like a rehearsal dinner, if rehearsal dinners involved cups full of blood and thinly-veiled threats instead of pasta dishes and nosy in-laws. Instead of meeting them at Pandemonium, Mae had arranged for one of the nearby warehouses to be turned into a makeshift banquet hall, complete with bar, stage, dance floor, and tables. If they’d tried to welcome Túlio and Casper at Pandemonium, the place would’ve burst at the seams from all the bodies trying to fit inside. Every one of the visiting delegates were in attendance, milling around as they waited for the guests of honor. The warehouse felt like one of those stuffy parties that the rich put on to mix and mingle, trying to form alliances and destroy each other in the same breath. Dwayne was sick of it already. He wanted nothing more than to throw everyone out and be done with it, especially now that he knew that one of the visiting covens was harboring his murderer. He held back a growl, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself as he neared the dance floor, where his brothers and sister were waiting for him. Nothing could be done, or they’d risk losing everything they’d built. 

Fuck the laws, and fuck everyone who’d ever wrote them. 

_“You look like you just ate a rotten lemon, brother.”_ Mae’s voice whispered across his mind, drawing Dwayne out of his thoughts. He looked up to see her giving him a knowing smile, although the tiredness in her eyes soured the affectionate gaze.

_“And you look like you haven’t slept in years.”_ He replied, taking his place by David’s side, scanning the crowd yet again as Sato, Aminah, and Murtagh formed a line in front of the ruling family, making it clear to all that they weren’t to be approached.

_“Technically, vampires don’t sleep. We wait.”_

_“…That’s the worst fucking joke I’ve ever heard, and I’m ashamed to call you my sister.”_

Mae hid her laughter behind a cough, drawing the attention of her boyfriend, who merely gave her a withering look at how terrible her cover up was before turning back to David. The two were whispering about an argument Calpurnia had overheard last night between a vampire from the Cape Town coven and a vampire from the coven in Mumbai. It seemed to be just petty insults, but you could never have too much information, or so Marko was saying. She turned her attention back towards the doorway, where Sparrow was lingering, ready to signal the approach of Túlio’s entourage. Her eyes studied the guests milling about the bar, where Lukas was entertaining a sizable crowd with his cocktail juggling.

Under normal circumstances, if her eldest brother came to stay, he’d travel straight to Mae’s house, bypassing Pandemonium altogether. Túlio, Casper, Dollar Fifty, and a few other members of the Los Angeles coven had standing offers of invitation from David, meaning that they didn’t have to ask permission to stay in town for more than one night. Of course, David always knew when they were coming anyway, since Mae was always in a good mood when her brother came to visit. She kept the attic as a guest room now, with enough bedding and comforts to make the admittedly cramped room seem like a four-star hotel. Túlio would simply knock on the door and be welcomed in like he’d never left. He’d become fast friends will all of her brothers, as had Casper, although the latter seemed to get along with Paul the best. Weed was easy to bond over, apparently.

Tonight, though, was once again about seeing and being seen, which meant that Túlio would have to make a grand entrance, and how can you have a grand entrance if there’s no audience to witness it? Thus the converted warehouse. Mae wished that they could at least meet at her place first before coming here, but that would apparently insult the entirety of Europe and most of Africa and Asia, so she had to hold herself back from just flinging herself into her brother’s arms like she usually did. It sucked, but it was all part of the game. Like her other brothers, she was tired of all the posturing and politics, and that wasn’t even counting the gigantic elephant in the room.

Mae dragged her eyes away from the bar, where Lukas was currently lighting tequila on fire, and combed through the guests, searching for her targets. Ah, yes, there they were. Michael, no… _Emilian_ and his masters had taken over a few tables close to the dance floor, drinking wine and whispering the latest gossip like a high school clique at prom. It took all of her willpower not to roll her eyes. Cosmina seemed to sense her gaze, though, and before Mae could look away, their eyes met. The Romanian sent her what would have been a gentle smile, if it weren’t for the cruelty lingering in her eyes. She was sure that Cosmina had already ruined a few lives before her first drink was even finished. 

Ugh.

A silvery gleam by the door drew her attention away from the Romanians; it was Sparrow, angling her bracelet just so to alert her captain that Túlio’s entourage had been spotted. Paul whispered something to David, who nodded and signaled Lukas, who began directing the crowd away from the bar and towards the dance floor if they wanted a chance of catching the guests of honor. In a matter of seconds, most of the room’s occupants were crowded around the edges of the dance floor, drinks in had as they whispered to one another. The volume was lowered on the music as the sound of cars grew louder in an almost comical repetition of the previous night. This time, though, Mae wasn’t waiting on the sidewalk for her guests. She knew her brother’s ego wasn’t _that_ delicate. If vampiric ears listened hard enough, Sparrow’s quiet voice could be heard greeting their guests before asking that the doors be held open. About ten vampires in various levels of formal dress entered the warehouse, the very air around them heavy with power and confidence. Sparrow led them up to David, giving a small nod at her king before stepping to the side. 

“…Túlio.” David murmured, still as a stone.

“…David.” Túlio replied, the two seeming to stare the other down.

The room was heavy with anticipation, before…

“It’s good to see you, brother!” Túlio grinned, his eyes bright with laughter as he stepped forward, clasping arms with David like the old friends they were. The tension disappeared, and the music and chatter resumed as the guests let themselves believe that politics weren’t important tonight. 

“And you, brother.” David returned Túlio’s smile, taking in the other man’s appearance. Túlio, like many of the vampires in attendance, was in an impeccably tailored suit, the dark red of the fabric complimenting his bronze skin, while the black details spoke of taste and culture. Casper stepped up next, taking David’s hand just like Túlio had. 

“Hello, brother.” In recent years, Casper’s lucidity had come more and more often, much to Mae and Túlio’s joy. Hopefully it meant good things, although they weren’t sure what brought it on. Still, they were enjoying it while it lasted.

“Hello.” David was fond of Casper as well, appreciating the man’s keen eye for detail. He was like Marko, and the two made a formidable pair when they worked together. Casper was dressed a little more casually than his soon-to-be mate, his shirt, tie, and pants fashionably rumpled. It looked like a little bit of rebellion against the enforced dress code, which helped brighten David’s day just a little bit. At least he wasn’t the only one who hated all this dressing up.

“ _Hermanita_!” Túlio laughed as he swept Mae up into a hug, forgetting propriety for a moment to show affection to his beloved sister. The entire room already knew how important she was to him, so it wasn’t like he was giving away his hand by being so open about it.

“ _Mi hermano_. It’s good to see you.” Mae murmured, holding him tight for a moment before letting go, looking him over. “You’re looking good, too.”

“Thank you. I had it made just for the occasion.” He winked at her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. As he did, he took the opportunity to whisper so quietly in her ear that she almost didn’t hear it herself. “Be careful. Something strange is happening. Tell the others. We’ll talk about it more later.”

Mae smiled, using that in place of a more obvious movement like a nod. “Casper! Come here!” She pulled her future brother-in-law into her arms, keeping up her smile even as he too whispered in her ear.

“Conspiracies, Mae. Conspiracies everywhere. Keep your enemies close.”

“Would you like a drink?” She asked, keeping the unease out of her voice with a supremely taxing effort. Shit. Nothing could ever be easy, could it? With a quick thought, she alerted her brothers to Casper and Túlio’s suspicions, feeling their frustration through their bond. Just what they needed, _more_ problems. 

“Yes, please. I…” Casper began, before being all but shoved out of the way by a familiar form.

“Mae!” Dollar Fifty let out a deep laugh as he all but lifted Mae into the air, ignoring her grumblings about being in public and that he was wrinkling her dress.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good to see you too, now could you _please_ let me down already!” Mae hissed, shaking herself out when her old friend finally complied.

Further greetings were exchanged under the watchful eye of all the delegates, most of whom didn’t care one way or the other about the exuberance of the various parties involved, although some of the older vampires were either confused or outright disdainful. They could go fuck themselves for all the Santa Carla coven could care. The only reason they were putting up with all of this bullshit was the years of trust that had built up between the L.A. coven and their own family. Still, this was all part of the grand game, and soon enough, they’d schooled themselves back into their more formal personalities. David took Túlio’s arm again, gripping it firmly.

“Welcome to Santa Carla, brother. Be welcome for as long as you like.” 

“Thank you, brother.” Túlio gave a little bow as David let go of his arm, turning to Casper and slipping his hand into his fiancé’s.

“Lukas! A round for everyone!” David called out, signaling the beginning of the party. A few cheers went up from the American vampires, but the Europeans merely made their elegant way towards the bar. Some things were the same no matter where you were born, and free booze was free booze. Music began playing, most of it distinctly Latin in flavor, as both a nod to Túlio’s heritage and the culture of Los Angeles. Soon, the floor was full of dancers with varying levels of skill, while others gathered around either David or Túlio and Casper, either offering their congratulations or trying to talk business. Paul wandered off with Murtagh and Lee, while Dwayne stationed himself near the DJ, where he had the best view of the room. He ordered Aminah to stick with David, knowing that any attackers would either underestimate her because she was a woman, or they’d think twice because of how tall and broad she was. Aminah was the top choice if you wanted the best of both worlds in a guardian. 

Marko took the opportunity to lead Mae off to the side of the warehouse, the two of them sitting at the table reserved for the ruling family and their guests. No one was sitting there yet besides them; most of the Los Angeles coven were either drinking, dancing, or guarding their liege lord. No one was lingering nearby, but Marko kept on guard anyway, speaking to his girlfriend telepathically. After all, any spy worth their salt would know how to read lips.

_“кохана, what_ exactly _did your brothers tell you?”_ Marko asked, sitting down and pulling Mae onto his lap. She perched carefully on his legs, the two of them looking like any other pair of lovers who just wanted a moment alone. Her lips brushed his in a gentle kiss before she leaned her head against his shoulder as she told him what Casper and Túlio had told her.

_“…When we get home, I’ll tell you everything I’ve heard, but you know those premonitions you’ve had lately?”_

_“The nightmares? Yeah.”_

_“You might be onto something. We’ve heard rumors of an attack, but we can’t find out who or when it will be, just that something might happen while Túlio and Casper are in town.”_

_“Shit.”_

_“…That’s one way to put it, yeah.”_ Marko’s mental laugh was like a warm blanket on a winter’s night, comforting Mae as she tried to sort through her vague suspicions. His thumb stroked her hip as the two watched Kai get pulled onto the floor by one of Túlio’s counselors for waltz. His almost helpless look pulled a real world laugh out of both of them. 

_“Darling…I got so used to peace. Sure, nothing was ever quiet around here, but I don’t want to fight another war. Not so soon.”_

_“It’s been thirty years, Mae. It was bound to happen._ Something _was going to give.”_

_“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”_ Mae’s psychic voice was gruff with frustration and helplessness. _“At the very least, I wish it wasn’t during my brother’s wedding. I wanted everything to be perfect. He deserves it. He deserves happiness.”_

_“He does, but he knows how our world works, кохана. I’m sure he knew that this could happen.”_ Marko pressed a kiss to her neck, delighting in her quiet moan. Gentle displays of affection were still something he kept to their private life, but he could never pass up the chance to tease his lover.

_“Still…”_ Mae huffed, leaning into him once again. _“Weddings should be perfect. One of the moments you remember forever because of how happy you are. Two souls bound as one. It’s a beautiful thing.”_

_“…Not all weddings are beautiful, Mae. Most of them never even work.”_ Marko mentally rolled his eyes, remembering his own mother and father and how _that_ marriage worked out.

_“Not every marriage is doomed to fail, darling.”_

_“It’s an archaic tradition that was originally for cementing alliances and trading land, nothing more. It’s not_ sacred _.”_ Marko huffed, raising an eyebrow at his girlfriend. _“What, you jealous or something?”_

Mae’s silence was answer enough.

Just as Marko was about to continue his argument against marriage and all that came with it, Túlio sauntered over with a delighted grin on his face. Saved by the bell, it seemed.

“Mae! I got them to play some Santana. Care to join me?”

“Totally! We haven’t done this in years!” Mae laughed, taking Túlio’s hand and sliding out of Marko’s lap. She blew her boyfriend a kiss as Túlio led her away, acting as if their conversation had never happened. He might act otherwise, but Marko was sure that Túlio had come over after sensing his sister’s distress. Shit. They were losing their touch.

But why was Mae so hung up about weddings, anyway? Ugh, women. 

At least, that’s what he told himself.

 

* * *

 

“I swear to all that is holy, I will cave that boy’s head in if he doesn’t get the picture soon…” Túlio half-sighed, half-growled into Mae’s ear as they moved back and forth to “Evil Ways”. He spun his sister in a circle, their hips swaying like they were a pair of professional dancers. Both had experience with dancing, and since Túlio had taught her everything she knew about Latin dance, they could reach each other with stunning accuracy on the dance floor. Half the couples had stopped just to watch them as they commanded the entire space.

“If he doesn’t want to, I’m not going to force him.” Mae whispered, glad that the song hadn’t gotten to the fast part yet.

“Have you ever thought of proposing to _him_?” Túlio grinned, snickering at the sour face his sister gave him.

“That would be even _worse_ , Túlio.” 

“Oooo! Using my full name now, are you? I _must_ be in trouble.”

“You’re lucky you’re getting married tomorrow, or I’d smack you in front of all of these people.” Mae huffed, but she was already losing her anger as the song neared its peak.

“You wouldn’t. You love me too much.” Túlio laughed as he spun her again. 

“…Ass.” 

She could feel the eyes of the vast majority of guests on them as the drums picked up, the two moving lightning fast, but not quite vampire levels of fast. Their footwork was perfectly in sync as they lost themselves to the rhythm, just letting loose in the only way they could while surrounded by a crowd of strangers. Mae let herself laugh when she realized that Túlio was showing off, swaying his hips just a little too much, his movements just a bit too striking. She followed his gaze, seeing Casper staring riveted as his fiancé ended the song by dipping Mae back. Her brother was nothing if not a flirt, so she wasn’t too put out when, after the applause died down and more guests shuffled back onto the floor, Túlio left her behind to go “speak” with his lover. Mae only laughed and waved him off, hearing the music slow down into another waltz.

“May I have this dance?” An unfamiliar voice came from just behind her. 

When she turned, she came face to face with Michael, the murderer of her coven. Time slowed for a moment, everything but the sound of her own unnecessary breathing reaching her ears. It took everything Mae had not to scream at him, to rip his throat out with her teeth, to tear at his chest and pull out his heart and eat it in front of him.

“Emilian.”

“Mae.”

No, she couldn’t kill him. Not now. Instead, she grit her teeth and took his hand, watching as Michael pulled himself up from his half-bow. His hand slid around her waist as he began to slowly lead their dance, his movements practiced, but somewhat stiff. It was nothing like dancing with Túlio, and all she wanted to do was run back to Marko or whichever one of her brothers was nearest, but she had to play the game, and refusing him would lose them precious ground. Damnit. The anger and worry of her brothers reached her mind as they saw just who she was dancing with, and Mae sent a mental plea to her brothers to keep their calm. She could handle herself, goddammit!

“I trust you’re enjoying the party?” Mae began, taking in his sharp features, disguising her movements as merely watching for other dancers moving towards them.

From what David had told her, Michael was in his late teens when he’d come to Santa Carla, but the man before her was in his mid-twenties. Physically, he was older than everyone in her family, except maybe Túlio, who couldn’t remember exactly how old he was when he was turned. His features were strong, his jawline sharp, and his heavy brows gave him a grim and moody aura. Michael’s body was toned, his outfit obviously expensive and designed to show off his best features. Like most of the Romanians, he was dressed in a finely tailored suit, although he’d left the jacket behind at the table. She could smell sandalwood and gun oil, although she was fairly certain that he hadn’t chosen those scents for himself. Teodor and Cosmina struck her as the type to treat their followers as playthings, nothing more.

“Seems like a good time.” Michael replied, shrugging slightly as they narrowly avoided a rather drunk pair of Frenchmen. 

“I’m sure you’ve been to nicer parties than this, of course.” Mae raised an eyebrow, allowing him to dip her back when several other pairs did the same, following the trend like a good little soldier. Hm. Interesting.

“Maybe, but each one has it’s own unique…flair.” He grinned, laughing at some distant memory. 

“I’m sure you didn’t ask me to dance out of the goodness of your heart, _Emilian_.” Mae stressed his new name, reminding him that she knew what he’d done, and that she wasn’t the forgiving kind. “What do you want?”

“…A few things, really. To see who David replaced me with. You don’t seem so special.” Michael’s smile turned patronizing. 

“Wow. Really earning yourself points there, pal.” Mae snarled, hiding her disdain behind a sweet smile. “This coming from an elder vampire’s pet. You’re not even your own person anymore.”

_That_ seemed to strike a nerve, and Michael spun them harshly through their next turn. Mae refused to do more than glare at him for the harsh treatment, ignoring the twisting pain in her ankle. It would heal itself in a minute anyway.

“I’m _better_ than I ever was before. I have power now. I’ve seen the world. Your precious David couldn’t give you half the things I have. Leaving Santa Carla was the best thing I ever did.” Michael growled.

“Then why did you come back?” Mae countered.

“No one told us where we were going, just that Teodor and Cosmina had an engagement to attend in California. That, and I thought all of them were dead, so I said nothing when we arrived here.” 

“Oh yeah, I forgot the attempted murder. Whoops.” Mae deadpanned, hoping the song would end soon.

“We were ridding this place of its filth. We were freeing Star and Laddie from the life David _forced_ them into. Or did he not tell you everything?” Michael acted like he had the upper hand, but Mae only laughed. 

“I know _everything_ , Michael. The good, the bad, and the ugly. David has been nothing but honest with me. He’s changed, for the better, as you would say. Better than you and your precious brother and girlfriend. We don’t need sugar daddies and pretentions at power. We have _real_ power. Oh, the things you could have had if you’d only stayed…and you could have gotten them _without_ whoring yourself out to the richest vampires you could find. Oh, well.” Mae shrugged, pulling away from him as the waltz finally came to an end.

“I do have power, Mae. You’ll see it someday, if you ever leave this godforsaken town.” Michael stepped closer, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

“I’ve got nothing against you, Mae. You weren’t here when the fight went down. Why are you so desperate for revenge? Besides, there’s nothing you can do to me. Your hands are tied. Still, it’s fun watching you squirm.” He pulled back, throwing her a wink before sauntering back to the Romanian table.

“Have a good night, Mae.”

 

* * *

 

“What an absolute son of a bitch!”

The welcome dinner had ended an hour ago, and all of Mae’s family was finally back in her home, safe and relatively unscathed. Paul, however, was taking Michael’s taunts exceedingly hard, not that anyone could blame him. While Dwayne’s resurrection had been the worst, Paul’s death had been just as traumatic, and he handled things much more vocally than his brother. He was pacing across the living room, wearing a hole in the floor, as one of Mae’s foster mothers would say. David had dismissed his soldiers back to their posts or their homes; none of them lived at Mae’s house, although they were all welcome to stop by whenever they needed something. The rest of the party, which included Túlio and his entourage, were spread around the room, sipping their drinks and trying to calm down enough to finally get to sleep. Luckily for Mae, most of her brother’s councilors and followers didn’t mind sleeping suspended on the bars Dwayne had installed in the attic just for the occasion. In fact, they were all rather amused that the Santa Carla vampires preferred to sleep in beds now after decades of habit. Mae wished that amusement had lasted, but even though Túlio’s men weren’t as emotionally attached to the situation as their master was, they still felt anger on their lord’s behalf.

“Paul, take a seat, okay?” David gestured to one of the free chairs, a hint of command laced beneath his words.

While he was doing this partly because Paul’s pacing was getting annoying, it was mostly so that his brother would stop working himself up any further. It wasn’t helping. Once the blonde was settled down, David turned towards Túlio and Casper, who were curled up on the couch next to Mae, who was in turn leaning into Marko. It would have been a nice, cozy picture if it weren’t for the worry in everyone’s eyes. Túlio and Casper’s warnings earlier that night had David’s brother and sister on edge, and it was about time that they got to the bottom of it.

“So, Casper…what have you heard?” He began, wishing he could light a cigarette, but he didn’t have the energy to make his way over to the window.

“Suspicions, mostly, and a lot of omens, if you believe in such things.” Casper’s deep, rough voice was quiet, and he took a moment to think over all that he knew. Túlio’s cheek was pressed against his fiancé’s shoulder; here, in the old Comstock place, no one had to pretend to be strong. Here, they were safe…for now.

“It’s not so much that some vampires have extra… _powers_ , you might say…but we’re no longer human. We’re more like animals. We can feel things before they happen, like birds that fly away before a lightning storm can burn down the forest.” Casper rambled a little, stopping when Túlio gently nudged him in the side. “But yeah, I’ve heard things. Rumors of a conspiracy. A coup. The king is dead, long live the king.” His voice frayed at the edges, and his mind seemed to wander elsewhere for the moment, the old injury acting up again. 

“Casper’s been getting premonitions that something terrible is coming. He’s usually right, so we looked into it.” Túlio continued. “Europe is never stable, and the covens are always fighting a cold war, but this…this reeks of an attack. We’re not sure who’s planning it, but someone is trying to kill off the heads of a coven. Again, we’re not sure which one. While things like this happen all the time over there, I wouldn’t give a shit…if it wasn’t about to happen here, in your city.”

“It sounds like no _one_ coven is behind the conspiracy, which is something new.” Dollar Fifty chimed in, taking another drink of his beer. “Of course, that makes things really fucking difficult for _us_. Without a specific coven to watch out for, we don’t know who to track, and there’s too many people for all of us to cover. I think we can trust the American covens, and the Australian and New Zealand covens. They don’t play politics like that. I’m not too sure about the Asian or African ones, but I would bet good money that this is a European deal exclusively.” 

“Great. That’s only, what, eight covens to watch out for? Shit.” Marko growled, already thumbing through his mental tally of which vampires belonged to which coven. “That’s almost 100 people!” 

“Well, they can’t _all_ be part of this conspiracy, or else we never would have heard about it.” Dollar Fifty reasoned, finishing off his drink. “All we can do is wait. It might just be rumor, or a plan that fell through before we got here. As it is, all we can do is look out for ourselves first, _then_ worry about everyone else.”

“We’re responsible for everyone who enters our borders, Dollar Fifty.” David glowered at the taller man, but his venom wasn’t really meant for his friend. “If someone dies under our watch, that wouldn’t look very good for us.” 

“Fuck politics! They all have their own security, their own defenses! Let them have a go at each other, and be done with it!” Paul sneered, absentmindedly tearing at the label of his beer bottle, unable to vent his frustration in any other way.

“Isn’t the whole point of this bullshit to make sure we don’t look weak?” Dwayne shifted against the wall by the door, his jacket rustling as he stretched his arms out. “And if someone dies, they could blame us, not just for letting them die, but for planning to kill them ourselves.”

“…You have a point there.” David admitted, turning his gaze towards his lieutenant. “Someone could be trying to set us up.”

“But who? And why?” Mae asked, speaking for the first time since she’s told them about her encounter with Michael. “If it’s the Europeans, they have nothing to gain from it. We’re just one Way Station way off in America. We have no stake in their stupid games. Nah, it’s something else. I don’t think we have anything to do with their plans.” 

“Then why would they stage an attack here?” One of Túlio’s councilors, Reina, spoke up from where she was sitting on the stairwell. “It would be easier to cover things up back home.” 

“Isolation, maybe? Strand everyone far from their power bases, and they can’t do much to defend themselves.” Túlio answered.

“I still think we’re missing something.” Mae mumbled, rubbing at her forehead.

“What are missing?” David raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know.” Mae sighed. “And that’s the worst part.”

 

* * *

 

The sun was an hour away, and everyone had retreated to their rooms for the day. Mae had refurbished the room Aunt Lydia’s nurses used to sleep in as yet another guest room, and she’d given it to Túlio and Casper for the night to give them some privacy. Most of her brothers were in their usual room, and the L.A. vampires were in the attic. Which left just Mae and Marko in the master bedroom, the door shut and the curtains drawn tight as they lay in bed. 

Marko hadn’t forgotten their conversation earlier that night, Mae’s obvious jealousy of her eldest brother evident in her silence. So…she wanted to get married? She’d never mentioned that before, although he knew that he’d never brought up the idea himself, either. Marko was still very much against the institution; he didn’t want to be bound. He liked his freedom, and even though he was loyal to his girlfriend, he didn’t need a contract and a ceremony to declare that they were together for as long as they lived. Yes, he loved her, and to be honest, he couldn’t see himself with anyone else. They weren’t a perfect couple, but he’d seen perfect couples before, and they always ended in tragedy. Still, while he was dead set against marriage, _mating_ on the other hand…

For a few years now, Marko had been considering asking his girlfriend to be his mate. The difference between a wife and a mate was drastic; a wife would only be bound to him on paper, but a mate would be bound to him in every way, body and soul, and he would be bound to her, too. If she accepted his bite, Mae would hear his thoughts, sense his feelings, and feel any wounds or pain inflicted on him. It could only be undone by death, and rumor had it that mates that were parted by the final death often died within days of each other. Why was she so hung up on a wedding when they could be mated? Marko did his best not to think about the fact that he was willing to bind himself permanently to another person; even though it was Mae, the one person he loved and trusted above all others, the idea of being bound by any kind of chain frightened him.

He wouldn’t be like his father. He wouldn’t settle down. Never.

Or would he? 

Mae seemed oblivious to his tumultuous thoughts, although that was probably because she was lost deep within her own fears and worries. Marko pushed his troubles aside. They could wait for another time, when worse problems were ahead of them. He slid his arms around her waist, pulling her in to lie against him, their bodies pressed together under the covers. Her hair was still a little bit damp from her shower, but not unpleasantly so, and Marko pressed his lips to the crown of her head, letting her come up from her mind in her own time. It took a few moments, but Mae finally seemed to realize where she was, and her hand came to rest on his chest, just below his collarbone.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked, his voice muffled in her hair.

“The conspiracies, mostly. I’m trying to pin down what we’re missing. I’m sure that we don’t have the whole picture, and that’s not counting the fact that we don’t know who’s attacking, or when. It all seems too…easy, I guess.”

“It’s almost sunrise, кохана. Save your worries for the sunset.” He hooked his finger under her chin, tilting his girlfriend’s head back so their eyes could meet. “There’s nothing we can do about it right now. Just be here with me.”

“…When we first met, I never knew you could be so sweet.” Mae’s smile was slow to build, but it was bright and soft. 

“Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain.” Marko laughed, leaning down to kiss her. “Only for you, кохана.” 

“Promise, darling?” Mae giggled, kissing down his jaw and to his neck.

“…Promise.” Marko sighed, tilting his head back to let her explore. Her teeth worried at a sensitive spot on his neck, the sensation shooting straight to his cock. “Fuck…” 

“Did you see the way some of our ‘guests’ were looking at you tonight, darling?” Mae purred, sliding her hand down to tease his nipple. They were both in t-shirts and their underwear, nothing else, so access was incredibly easy. Her smile turned wicked as Marko let out a soft moan. “Sssshhhh…they’re still awake, darling. Someone could hear us…” 

“Let them…fuck…!” Marko gasped, his hips thrusting upwards as Mae expertly teased him. They both needed the distraction, but sunrise was swiftly approaching, so they didn’t have time to be slow. He felt her hand slide down to his waist, her fingers slipping under the waistband of his boxers to stroke delicately along his cock. “Fucking hell…” 

“You’re _mine_ , Marko. I wanted to tear their eyes out so they wouldn’t dare to look at what’s mine…but I thought better of it. _Let them look_.” She growled, wrapping her hand around his length and pumping, his precum slicking his skin. “Let them see what they can’t have.”

The thought of his lover ripping her rivals apart was incredibly arousing. Marko’s lips stretched into a sinful grin, the image of his beloved bloody and victorious driving him towards the edge. Still, he could be a very generous lover when he wanted to be, so he opened his eyes and rolled over, pinning Mae to the bed. He trapped her lips in a rough, biting kiss as he pulled her panties off, shimmying out of his own underwear before grabbing her thighs and spreading her legs open.

“When Michael had his filthy hands on you, I wanted to kill him right then and there, consequences be damned. I’d rip out his throat and watch him choke. I’d stake him and watch his body destroy itself before taking you right there in the blood and ashes. Everyone would know you’re _mine_ , кохана. And all the others who were looking at me would know that nothing could tear us apart.” Despite the violent nature of his words, there was genuine love beneath them, and even though he didn’t realize he was admitting it, Mae could hear the pledge loud and clear.

Before she could say anything, though, Marko sank his cock into her heat, growling at the slick tightness surrounding his length. He dived down to kiss her again, not trusting himself to keep quiet unless his mouth was occupied. Mae wrapped her legs around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust as they fucked, the movements wild and graceless. Whether it was the leftover nerves from the past night, or if they were just so desperate for release that all bets were off, both of them could feel their end rocketing towards them. When Marko let go of one of her legs to tease her clit, Mae had to choke back a scream, her channel clenching around him as she came. Marko followed her soon after, giving himself over to the sensations as he buried himself as deep as he could go.

They lay side by side in the aftermath, both catching their breath, metaphorically speaking, not saying a word. If they had still been human, they would have been sweating and uncomfortable, but as it was, they were just tired. Mae bit her lip as she felt his spend slowly drip from inside of her, probably staining the sheets as she lay boneless. She moaned at the feeling, prompting Marko to sit up enough to lean over her, kissing her deeply before getting up and heading for the en suite bathroom. The sink ran for a moment, then he returned, a washcloth in hand. In a matter of minutes, they were both clean and comfortable once again, the bottom bed sheet tugged off and tossed aside. They were too tired to replace it that night. The two lovers curled into each other, the stress of the past week a distant memory…for now.

“Marko?” Mae whispered.

“Yeah?” Marko’s voice was equally quiet, his eyes closed as he felt sleep tug at his body.

“I love you.”

Her words were simple, a statement of fact, but even after thirty years, to Marko it still felt like the first time he ever heard it. Elation, warmth, affection, protectiveness…they all flooded through him at lightning speed, amplified by the post coital haze. They weren’t said to control him, to manipulate him. They weren’t dangled over his head as a prize to be won if he was a good little boy. No, when Mae said those three words, she said them simply because she loved him, and she wanted him to know it. After years of being together, she said them freely, sometimes for no reason at all, and there were days when it still surprised him that she was his, and he was hers. It didn’t feel like a cage, like a sham, like playing pretend. No, it was real, organic, almost…freeing.

He still had no intention of marrying her, but she’d changed his mind about things before. Whatever happened, though, he knew one thing to be true: he wasn’t letting her go, and he knew that only death would ever take her from him.

Not that he’d ever let Death have her. Nor would she let Death have him.

“I love you too, кохана.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Is everything ready?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then we can begin.”

Footsteps in the dark, and then…

“…My love, are you sure this will work?”

“Of course it will, baby.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me at unchainmesister.tumblr.com!


	6. It's A Nice Day For A White Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's almost obnoxiously romantic how perfect this night is: a moonlit wedding, a seemingly never-ending party, a bar overflowing with alcohol and blood, and two grooms who are obviously besotted with each other. Still, if the not-so-subtle groping and occasional sappy exchange of words is the worst this night has to offer, then the vampires of Santa Carla will count this night as a success. 
> 
> Of course, nothing ever goes so smoothly in the murder capital of the world. 
> 
> An exercise in patience, as presented by the Santa Carla coven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! First of all, I want to say how sorry I am that this took so long. Things have been incredibly horrible the last few months, with only a few good things scattered here and there. It's all really personal stuff, so I won't talk about it much here, but I'm hoping that with the posting of this new chapter, my will to write is finally back! 
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me, guys! As always, comments and kudos feed my tainted soul.

The moon glowed low in the sky, its reflection shimmering on the surface of the sea like a mirage. On a secluded cliff overlooking an empty stretch of beach was a gathering of the undead, split neatly down the middle by a makeshift path lined with softly glowing candles that flickered in the salty ocean breeze. The guests were dressed in a wide variety of clothing, from antique Victorian suits and dresses to modern haute couture. At the edge of the cliff stood three figures, one on each side of the aisle, with the third in the center.

On the right stood Paul, who had been wrangled into a royal purple suit worthy of Mick Jagger in his prime. On the left was Mae in a vintage 1930’s tuxedo (one that Túlio swore up and down once belonged to Marlene Dietrich herself), her hair slicked back to add to her androgynous look. She was Túlio’s best man, while Paul was Casper’s. In the center stood David, who was officiating as the king of the city. He wore a military-inspired suit in deference to the importance of the occasion, although both he and Paul had refused to listen to Mae’s insistence that they tame their hair. Oh well. Some battles just weren’t worth fighting.

A few of the Russian vampires were classically trained violinists who had offered to play the music for the ceremony; they were stationed several feet behind Paul, the gentle strains of a Tchaikovsky piece floating across the breeze. The quiet murmurs of the guests suddenly ceased as footsteps so light only a vampire could hear them scraped across the sandy soil. Hand-in-hand, soft smiles on their faces, Túlio and Casper paused at the end of the aisle, waiting for the violinists to finish their current piece before beginning the song they would walk down the aisle to. Florence + The Machine’s “All This And Heaven Too” seemed an odd choice for the damned, but it held a special meaning for Túlio and Casper, one that only they knew, and so no one questioned it.

The song began, and the two took their first steps towards the edge of the cliff. Mae watched her brother and her friend walk slowly across the cool grass, their expressions serene. The guests were silent and respectful; indeed, many of them were ecstatic that Túlio, long a fixture in vampire politics, was finally doing something solely for himself and cementing his own personal happiness. Many regarded him as a stabilizing for in the world of the damned, a voice of reason that both treasured the traditions of the most ancient of their race while embracing the rebellious nature of their newest additions. The members of the Los Angeles coven had been given places of honor at the front of the gathering, and only a few had dry eyes as their lord and his lover came to a stop in front of David. The song ended with a gentle flourish, leaving the air empty, save for the quiet rustling of the wind in the trees.

“You are all gathered to witness the union of Túlio, Lord of Los Angeles, and Casper, Captain of the Echo Park Coven.” David began, his voice effortlessly carrying to each and every ear in the crowd. The ceremony itself would be short, since most vampires lacked religion, but the meaning was still there. Túlio and Casper turned to face each other while Paul and Mae stepped forward, placing the rings they’d kept in their pockets into the hand of their brother and friend before stepping back again. David turned his head towards Túlio, a gentle nod signaling that the man could begin his vows.

“Casper…” Túlio’s accent was thick and heavy as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. He took a steadying breath before carrying on.

“I could say a million flowery things to express how I feel about you, but none of them would do you justice. I have spent only a century in your company, and yet it feels like I’ve known you ever since I was born. You have been my guide, my heart, my salvation, my friend. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, however long that may be. If ever I wake up without you by my side, then surely that will be the day my long life has come to an end. Never shall I desire another, Casper. It is only you, always you. I give you my heart and soul, mi amor. Forever.”

He carefully slipped his ring onto Casper’s finger, the polished black obsidian shining in the hazy light of the moon. Túlio brought Casper’s hand up to his lips, kissing his knuckles before bringing their hands back down again, waiting for Casper to say his piece. Casper’s mind seemed to be slowly healing, and today was proof that he was on the mend: Casper’s eyes shone bright as he gazed at his beloved, his smile soft and warm.

“Túlio…you were a king long before you gained a crown. When I first saw you, I thought the works of a master had come to life before my eyes. It was as if Velázquez had painted the perfect man and set him loose upon the world. And then I came to know you, not as the bright man who stood beside the throne, but as just a man, and I fell. I loved you in silence for decades, the shattered corners of my mind painted with your name. Even when the world was just a dizzying array of colors and shapes, you alone stood clear in my eyes. All around you was chaos, but you were order, a port in the storm, perfect elegance in an urban wasteland. You never cared that I wasn’t whole, that my thoughts betrayed me, that I was pouring through the cracks in my own mind. And now you’ve become the pieces that were missing. My soul was never mine, Túlio; it was always yours, and it always will be. Forever.”

A ring of burnished gold, studded with rubies shaped like tears of blood, was placed onto Túlio’s finger before Casper mirrored his lover and kissed the shorter man’s knuckles. The human part of the ceremony was complete. Now all that was left was a pact more binding than any marriage vow could ever dream of being: a mating, the sharing of blood to create a bond that would be broken only by death. The two men loosened their ties and collars, baring their necks to their chosen mates in a sign of trust and love.

“Before the eyes of the world, Túlio and Casper have chosen to become bound for eternity. Any who dare to object, keep your silence. They won’t listen anyway.” David raised an eyebrow at the gathered crowd, almost wishing that someone would cause a fuss just so he could punch someone. Sadly, no one did, so he continued on. “Then let it be known that with the sharing of their blood, they are mates, now and forever.”

His part done, David stepped to the side, standing next to Mae as Túlio and Casper leaned in, their fangs bared, their arms wrapping around each other as sharp teeth sank into cold flesh. 

The cheers of the crowd were drowned out by the roaring of the blood in their ears.

 

* * *

 

_The black magic on Mulholland Drive_

_Swimming pools under desert skies_

_Drinking white wine in the blushing light_

_Just another LA Devotee_

If anyone knew how to throw a party, it was a vampire. Túlio had spent untold amounts of money to make sure that tonight was a night no one would ever forget, not even in a thousand years. One of the largest warehouses in the abandoned industrial district had been transformed into a delightfully odd mix of nightclub and Victorian cabaret. Sure, it was cliché and gaudy, but if anything described Túlio’s modern style, it was cliché and gaudy. Mae was kind of surprised that he hadn’t put Brendon Urie under a mesmer and dragged him up to Santa Carla for the night, especially given her brother’s love for the singer. Still, the DJ was playing enough Panic! At The Disco to make up for the man himself being absent, and Mae wasn’t ashamed to say that she didn’t mind it one bit.

The first few hours of the evening was taken up with dinner, or as close to a real dinner as one could have when none of the guests could really subsist on human food. Blood was pouring from the bar almost as readily as the wine, and the buffet of delicacies that lined one wall was nearly empty by the time midnight rolled around. No one really minded, though, since by then the dancing had well and truly begun. Túlio liked to dance almost as much as he liked wine and his now husband, so more than half of the warehouse was taken up by a dance floor. In deference to the unusual crowd of vampires in attendance, the musical selection was a mixture of modern music and classical, with dances from the 17th century mingling with 80’s pop fads like they were old friends. An elegant waltz from the 1800’s would melt into a rather stunning rendition of Thriller, which would be followed by the Brazilians giving an impromptu capoeira demonstration. The eclectic mix of dancing kept everyone entertained, even those who weren’t inclined to let loose on the dance floor.

Sato and Nash stood near the bar, keeping a careful eye on the patrons, all of whom were well on their way to blackout drunk (and it took a _lot_ of alcohol to get a vampire drunk). The shorter man raised an eyebrow at his captain, subtly nodding his head towards a pair from Perth who were about three cups away from causing a scene. Even though they seemed to be jovial drunkards, Nash had made it clear that anyone who got close to tanked would be cut off. With a smile, Nash nodded back, and Sato gave a signal to Lukas, who was having the time of his life serving drink after drink. The barkeeper nodded back, carefully switching out their drinks with plain blood, rather than the spiked blood they kept ordering. Several blood banks would be missing quite a few cases of blood come the morning, but Lukas had made sure that the thefts were spread out enough that they wouldn’t be noticed for a long time.

Dwayne passed by and gave a silent command to his subordinates, indicating that they could take a break while he took over at the bar. Sato and Nash bowed their heads in thanks before heading towards the remains of the buffet. Dwayne had been hovering around the edge of the dance floor all night, taking his fun when he felt like it, but he wasn’t the world’s biggest dancer. He wasn’t unhappy at all to take over for his men when they looked like they needed some time off. Aminah and Jamie were currently trying to learn the tango, helped along by a few willing partners from the Mexico City coven. At least, he was fairly sure they were from Mexico City.

He leaned against the bar, mentally tallying the rather enormous amount of covens represented in the room. From Oceania, Asia, and Africa, there was Sydney, Perth, Wellington, Cape Town, Nairobi, Cairo, Casablanca, Hong Kong, Seoul, Tokyo, Manila, Mumbai, and Bangkok. The Europeans were from Paris, Bucharest, St. Petersburg, London, Stockholm, Venice, Madrid, and Reykjavik. Most of the major North and South American covens had sent someone, too: New York, San Francisco, Miami, Chicago, Anchorage, Rio de Janeiro, Mexico City, and Montreal. It was a hell of a lot of people to keep track of, but so far, no one had tried anything stupid. 

So far.

Sparrow and Caleb gave him a smile and a wave as they leaned against the bar next to him, trying to flag down Lukas, who was now occupied with nearly half of the representatives from the Miami coven. Caleb groaned, turning towards Sparrow with the beginnings of a pout on his face.

“Looks like we’re going to have to wait.” He sighed, his jacket askew after a few too many turns around the floor. Dwayne wasn’t too familiar with Caleb’s past, but he knew the kid had come from a family of actors. It’s part of what made him so invaluable to Marko’s company. “Seen anything interesting, Captain?”

“Nothing yet, and I hope it stays that way. I think all the hidden corners of this place are being used for ‘secret’ fuck spots, though.” Dwayne groaned, running his fingers through his hair to straighten it out.

“Yup. I can confirm that.” Sparrow cringed, obviously remembering an earlier encounter with something she definitely did _not_ want to see. Dwayne vaguely remembered that she was asexual, so he felt a bit sorry for her. Tonight wasn’t going to be pleasant for the sex-repulsed, _that_ was for sure.

“You can call up Murtagh, he’s due for a break from rooftop duty, if you want.” Dwayne offered. He’d sent his second-strongest fighter up there to cool down after he nearly started a brawl with the muscle of the New York contingent. Something about baseball team rivalries, of all things.

“Sounds good, Commander.” Sparrow nodded in thanks, patting Caleb on the back before heading for the stairs to the roof. Her friend had finally caught Lukas’ attention, and the two were chatting about something or the other, leaving Dwayne alone to his thoughts once more.

A cheer rose up from the tables where dinner had taken place as one of the Swedes and one of the Filipinos decided to have a drinking contest. Dwayne barely held back another groan, sending out a mental command to Aminah and Jamie to cut their break short to keep an eye on them.

It was going to be a _long_ night.

 

* * *

 

Mae cast her eyes around the room, doing a periphery check even though she wasn’t on the security team. As the maid of honor, so to speak, she was in charge of making sure the evening went as smoothly as possible. It was an arduous task, but she knew her brother would do the same for her if she ever got married. She pushed the thought aside, not wanting to dwell on her boyfriend’s obvious reluctance to talk about the subject. Sure, they had other things on their plate at the moment, but a bit of mindless talk about maybe reaching some sort of compromise would be a nice distraction. Oh, well. Mae liked to think that she was a practical woman, and dwelling on such a delicate subject wouldn’t help her focus at all. Besides, she didn’t _need_ a wedding to dedicate herself to her chosen lover, but it would be nice. Túlio wouldn’t shut up about it, now that he was married himself…when he wasn’t making googly eyes at Casper and failing to subtly feel him up whenever they had a moment to themselves…

Nope, not thinking about it. Focus.

The tide to and from the dance floor ebbed and flowed like the waters of the nearby ocean. Right now, the floor was at high tide, filled to the brim with bodies moving to one of the latest club hits. The pulsing thrum of the bass made the glasses on the nearest tables shake, whatever liquid that had remained inside them sloshing about precariously. Some of the more sedate members of the guest list sat at the few tables that weren’t covered in empty glasses, talking amongst themselves about whatever vampires liked to talk about at a party. Mae didn’t pretend to know what their interests could be, although she could name every single person in the room and give you just enough information about them to be useful. She caught a snippet of conversation, something about a few vampires from Bangkok wanting to extend their stay in America and travel up to San Francisco. She mentally relayed the information to her boyfriend, catching Marko’s interest in the form of a warm buzz just below the nape of her neck. He was moseying around the room, smiling in that devilish way of his as he collected all the dark secrets he could. David seemed to be on the roof, probably to escape the constant politicking the more traditional covens were trying to do, and Dwayne was by the bar. Paul was in the middle of the fray on the dance floor, as he had been all night. Mae smiled, turning her head to catch a glimpse of her brother’s blonde mop of hair peeking out over the crowd for a brief moment before being lost again. At least _he_ was having fun.

“A penny for your thoughts?” A soft voice broke Mae out her musings. She whipped around, seeing an unfortunately familiar face sitting at the table just to her left.

Star, or rather, Ileana, was dressed in what could be generously described as ‘high fashion bohemian chic’, a incredibly colorful mix of lace, fringe, full skirts and peasant tops that looked like it took entirely too much effort for very little result. It looked like she had told a stylist to make her look like a hippie without ever leaving the Givenchy store. Mae suspected that Cosmina had a hand in Star’s look; from what little David had told her, Star was something of a ‘free spirit’ back in the good old days, and she often looked like an extra from a Stevie Nicks music video. Cosmina must have wanted her lady-in-waiting to retain that aesthetic without ever leaving Rodeo Drive. Frankly, it was a bit much, but, to her credit, Star wore it like it was the most perfect outfit ever created.

“Ileana, am I correct? I’m afraid my thoughts are worth more than a copper coin.” She smiled politely, trying to keep the acid from her voice. Star only looked amused, pulling a deck of cards from her pocket and shuffling them expertly.

“Care to have your fortune told, then?” Star offered, indicating the chair across from her. Mae frowned, quickly looking around, but since there was no one nearby to rescue her, she sat down and decided to play the game.

“Tarot?”

“Yes. I learned it a long time ago from an expert. They’re not always easy to read, but they tell the truth every time.”

“Of that I’m sure.” Mae replied, but it was obvious that she didn’t believe it. Despite living in a world of monsters and shadows, she thought that fortune telling was a children’s game at best and a scam at worst. She wasn’t quite sure what Star was up to, but it couldn’t hurt to see it through.

“We’ll just do a three card spread: past, present, and future. Anything you want to ask?” Star raised an eyebrow, spreading the cards out in a fan on the table.

“…How will this week end?” Mae answered, figuring that it was the most generic question she could ask.

“Then run your fingertips along the cards. Pick the first three that call to you.” Star prompted, waving her hand over the fanned out deck.

As her right hand hovered over the cards, something began tingling at the back of her neck, the sensation of being watched, but not by anyone in the room. It was as if a shawl made of gauze had settled on her shoulders, heavy with the weight of the supernatural. Had she not being having premonitions of danger for days on end, she would have shrugged it off, both literally and metaphorically. As it was, she once again pushed her thoughts aside, instead choosing to focus on the here and now. Her three cards selected, she watched as Star carefully put the deck aside and arranged the remaining three cards in front of her. She flipped the first over, revealing the picture of a man carrying rods on his back, heading towards a distant town.

“For the past…the Ten of Wands.” Star murmured, running a perfectly manicured nail along the edge of the card. “A sign of stress. This card means that a great effort was undertaken, and now it is nearing its completion.”

“The wedding.” Mae frowned.

“Indeed. You worked hard to see this event come to fruition, and now it’s here.” Shit, Star even _talked_ like the damn Romanians. Mae was sure that David had told her that Star was just a normal American girl, not someone who used the entire thesaurus to describe the time of day. Despite the accuracy of the reading, Mae chalked it up to just a lucky guess. Star flipped over the next one: five men, each holding a staff, waving them about like they were fighting each other.

“For the present…the Five of Wands.” Star tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before continuing. “There is conflict and tension. Either a great battle is about to begin, or the delicate threads that hold something together are about to snap. Perhaps there’s an argument going on?” The woman looked up at Mae, as if asking for clarification…or the latest gossip.

Mae said nothing.

“As you wish. Finally, the future…” Star turned over the last card, revealing a white hand holding a sword, a wreath and a crown at the tip of the blade. The card was upside down. “The Ace of Swords, reversed. Very interesting.”

“What does it mean?” Mae frowned again, wondering what had Star so intrigued.

“This card, when facing this way, means chaos. Soon, something will happen that will throw your world into turmoil.” Star looked up, her eyes serious, as if she knew _exactly_ what would happen. Mae held her gaze, sitting straight and tall, like a viper poised to strike.

“And what chaos can I expect, Miss _Ileana_?”

“More than you know, Miss Clayton. More than you know.”

And with that, Star gathered up her cards and stood, sweeping away in a rustling of skirts and silks, until Mae was the only one left at the table.

 

* * *

 

The sun was less than an hour away from rising when the last of the guests was finally ushered out of the warehouse and into a waiting car. Mae sat on the counter of the bar, her tuxedo jacket long discarded, her sleeves rolled up as she sipped a few fingers of bourbon mixed with blood. The warehouse would be locked up until the next evening, when the cleanup crew (some very heavily mesmerized humans overseen by what would likely be a few incredibly hung over vampires) would come in and return the building to its usual drab, empty state. Túlio and Casper were safely tucked away at Mae’s house, guarded by Reina and the rest of their attendants. All of the various covens had retired to their hotels and hideaways for the night, with most of them due to leave first thing in the evening the following night. Some, like the Bangkok coven, would be caravanning up to San Francisco, where they would extend their vacations in the picturesque city before flying back home. At least they would be the San Francisco council’s problem then.

David was talking with Dwayne, the two of them probably going over the plans for tomorrow, making sure that every entrance and exit to the city was watched to make sure no one overstayed their welcome. Paul was ostensibly helping Lukas pack up the few remaining bottles of alcohol, but in reality he was just drinking as much as he could before everything was locked up for the day. With the exception of Aminah, who was checking that the remainder of the warehouse was secure before they all left, the rest of the Santa Carla coven had been dismissed, heading back to their apartments or houses before the sun could catch them. Aminah had a flat a few blocks outside of the industrial district and Lukas lived in Pandemonium’s second floor, so they had offered to stay behind and help tidy up. Mae finished off her glass and handed it off to Lukas, who wiped it off and chucked it in a basin with the other dirty glasses. They’d all get washed tomorrow, bacterial growth be damned.

It’s not like any of them could get sick, after all.

Marko was lingering near the doorway, tapping rapidly on his phone, probably texting one of his men or making notes of all the things he’d heard that night. Mae pushed herself off the counter and grabbed her jacket, making her way over to him as the others began wrapping up and getting ready to leave. His phone was back in his pocket by the time she reached his side, and thus his hands were free to rest themselves on her waist as he pulled her into a soft kiss. When there was no one here but the people he trusted with his life, Marko was more than willing to give his girlfriend the affection she was obviously angling for. The gentle warmth and fondness pulsing radiating from her mind was his reward, although they were interrupted by Paul, who decided that careening into the two of them was the best idea ever.

“Ugh! You smell like a condemned Hooters!” Mae gagged, pushing her youngest brother away.

“Aw! You flatter me, kiddo!” Paul ruffled her hair, although his attempts were somewhat hindered by the incredible amount of hair gel Mae had needed to slick back her thick locks. Androgyny wasn’t easy to come by when you’d been letting your hair grow out for the last few years. “Ugh! It’s like a salon jizzed on your hair!”

Marko snickered at his brother’s comeback, ignoring the death glare Mae sent him. Still, now that the worst of the week was over, Mae was willing to be nice, so she only stomped heavily on Paul’s foot in retaliation, instead of doing something worse. Paul counted it as a win, and once David and Dwayne finally joined them, the five headed towards Mae’s truck, David taking his usual place as shotgun while the rest clambered into the back, uncaring of the dust ruining their “formal” wear. With a wave to Aminah and Lukas, they were off, ready to get home and bunker down for the night. 

The two remaining members of the Santa Carla coven waved back, checked that the warehouse door was securely locked, and parted ways, eager to get to their own beds. The night had gone well, and they deserved their rest.

In the distance, the sky was turning blue, the sun clawing its way inexorably towards the horizon.

 

* * *

 

At sixty minutes to sunrise, seven vampires died.

At fifty minutes to sunrise, two vampires succumbed to their wounds.

At forty minutes to sunrise, the smell of ash and burning bone was blown towards the sea by an errant wind.

At thirty minutes to sunrise, the fires on the beach were gone, as if they’d never happened.

At twenty minutes to sunrise, a homeless man saw two bloody, gaunt figures ran past him at speeds unheard of by mortal man. 

At fifteen minutes to sunrise, there was a knock on Mae’s door.

 

* * *

 

“…Teodor? Cosmina?” 

“They…They tried to kill us!”

“We formally request asylum.”

“…David?”

“…Asylum granted.”

“Get in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me at unchainmesister.tumblr.com!


	7. Judas Victorious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tale of the harrowing events that lead to Teodor and Cosmina showing up at the Lost Boys' front door brings to light a conspiracy greater than anything the vampires of Santa Carla had ever dreamed of. Some of the greatest houses of Europe have been brought low, all by a group of young and foolish vampires who somehow had the devil's luck on their side this night. 
> 
> While the fall of the great powers of Europe means almost nothing to David, the events happened on his very doorstep, and that's a slight he cannot overlook, although his options are slim at best. Despite their detailed recounting, so many questions linger. How did they do it? When did this whole thing begin? Who was the mastermind behind it all, if anyone? And most importantly: what did this mean for David and his family?
> 
> It's a night of answers that only lead to more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! I'm back back back back back again! Hopefully I can update a little better now that the Tumblrpocalypse is over with. Fingers crossed! As always, comments feed my rotting soul!

Many years ago, the Lost Boys had spent a very long night making sure that every window in the old Comstock place was covered in a thick layering of blackout curtains, many of them nailed into the wall so that no light could even _think_ of getting into the house. With the exception of a few un-nailed but still shaded windows in the living room, one up in the attic space, and the largest library window, the curtains remained eternally fixed over the glass. If any of the house’s residents wanted to take in the view outside, they would simply have to either take themselves out the front door or learn to live with the disappointment. A little bit of inconvenience was a small price to pay for your life when the sun crested the trees surrounding the old Victorian manor. 

So it was that, despite the tug of sunrise pulling at each of their brains, slowly but surely drawing them into the sleep of the damned, every guest of the Clayton household stood wide awake in the spacious living room. Those who couldn’t find a seat in time stood against the walls or simply sat down on the floor wherever there was room. Including their latest additions, there were now fourteen vampires hiding under one roof from the deceptively gentle rays of the pre-dawn sunlight. The atmosphere was tense, and if any of them had been given the time to think about it, they all would have made a hilarious picture: most of them were in their nightwear, an eclectic mix of mismatched, rumpled items that gave normally imperious and frightening figures a more human edge. The only ones still in what could have once been termed presentable clothes were sat on the small couch in the center of the room, although their formalwear was now torn, bloody, and singed. A cup of blood was being passed between the two, in the hopes that some food would calm them down and heal their more superficial injuries while the others waited for them to regain their balance.

After many long and uneasy minutes, their long-overdue explanation came.

“We were betrayed.” Teodor’s voice was unusually small, his normally devious half-smile missing from his striking face. Dried blood cracked around his lips as he spoke, the red mixed with black soot as charred skin healed itself.

“By who?” David asked, although he would bet good money that he already knew the answer. History loved to repeat itself. So unoriginal.

“Michael, and most of our personal guard.” Cosmina whispered, leaning into her mate as if he was the only thing holding her up.

She was less damaged than Teodor, her skin smeared in ash and blood but lacking the obvious burning and tearing that her husband had suffered. It was clear that he had done his best to shield his mate, something that earned Teodor a grudging sense of respect from the Santa Carla vampires.

“It was cunningly planned. We never heard a whisper of it.” Teodor’s glare could have burned a hole through the wood of the coffee table. Maybe it was. “There are always several assassination plots swirling around us, almost too many to keep track of if most of them are just rumors instead of credible threats. _That’s_ what they used against us. Our so-called informants plied us with information about suspected attacks, and I am now sure that most of them were false flags planted by the conspirators to draw our attention away from them." 

“We heard rumors of a coup, but nothing on this level.” Reina supplied, her long nightgown whispering against her skin as she shifted. She stood on the stairs, a favorite place of hers, it seemed. “We suspected an all-out attack, not a quiet overthrow.”

“Then your information was just as useless as ours.” Teodor growled, his frustration seeping into his spider silk-soft voice.

“And we were not the only ones fooled.” Cosmina’s hands gripped the empty cup tightly, nearly cracking the glass. “There is treason everywhere.”

“You weren’t the only ones attacked?” Marko leaned closer towards them from where he sat on the arm of David’s chair.

“There were five conspiracies in total.” Teodor finally met David’s gaze, his eyes cold and hard, although underneath there lay an almost ancient sadness. “The heads of some of the greatest and most ancient covens of Europe lie dead forever.”

“Who?” Mae asked quietly, her mind already turning over the lists of European covens, trying to guess who was the most likely to be dead.

“Lennox and Vivian, King and Queen of the English covens.” Teodor began, his teeth clenched in rage. “Rikard, Lord of the Swedish vampires. Some said he was a warrior from ancient times, long before his country’s written history. I hope he took his killers with him.”

“Georgette, Queen of the French coven. She cared so deeply for her followers, how could they have done this to her?” Cosmina seemed especially shaken by this one. They must have been friends, Mae thought.

“And Callistus, High Lord of Iberia. He was the oldest of us all, we think. It was he who warned us, and our loyalists, in time for us to defend ourselves.” Teodor finished, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “He warned us with the last of his strength, telling us who sent his killers: it was one of his lowest subordinates, Felipe. Someone he never suspected. He always kept his enemies close.”

“So I called Rikard, but he never answered. Then I tried to call Georgette, and it went through, but it must have been because someone stepped on the phone just right, because all I heard was the roaring of a fire before the signal was lost. Then we were attacked.” Teodor leaned back, covering his eyes with his hands. 

“We know that Lennox and Vivian must be dead, because it was their top officer who knocked down our door, tearing through the barricade we set up. Our peace with them is nearly as old as we are, and to violate such an agreement would be foolish for either of us. You could almost say we trusted them.” He laughed without mirth or spirit.

“There were ten of them, six from our coven and four from the English one.” Cosmina continued the story in an effort to give her husband a rest. She placed a comforting hand on his knee, her eyes dark with memory.

“Emilian…no, _Michael_ , didn’t even bother to come himself. His overconfidence will be his undoing.” She snarled, her face becoming monstrous for a moment before she forced herself back into a human shape. “He sent the strongest of his supporters, armed with silver bullets and sharpened stakes. The close-quarters nature of the fight was to our advantage: they had little room to use their guns without harming their accomplices. Still, they had a wretched fervor and lust for power, and because of this they took terrible risks. Of our three guardsmen who remained loyal, none made it out alive, although they took all but one of the conspirators with them when they fell.”

“Teodor and I cornered the final man, the oldest and strongest of the assassins, injured but still living. With his strength and cunning, it would be plausible that he would be the sole survivor of this mission, living when all others fell. The two of us together invaded his mind, breaking it into pieces, extracting the names of all the conspirators across every coven. It was all too easy.” Cosmina’s mouth curled in a cruel smile. “He is now completely under our control, though he does not know it. He believes that we are both dead, and we gave him enough ‘evidence’ to prove our demises to even the most doubtful of critics. No one knows we are alive now, save for you.”

“We escaped through the window, in case the doors were being watched, and we flew here as fast as we could. As far as we know, only the French, English, Iberian, Swedish, and Romanian covens suffered such betrayal this night.” Teodor sat up again, running his hand through his filthy hair. “I’m afraid we know nothing more than what we have told you.”

The room settled into an eerie silence once Teodor and Cosmina finished their tale. Outside, beyond the tightly-shut curtains, the morning birds sang their songs without a care in the world, their cheerful music a jarring counterpoint to the evil deeds of the night before. While the American vampires had expected trouble of some sort to crop up, none of them had expected something of _this_ magnitude. At worst, it should have been a barroom brawl or two between rival factions, nothing more. A full on coup, though? That was the _last_ thing they’d thought the covens were capable of this far from their home bases. The balance of power was constantly shifting in Europe, and while vampires like Cosmina and Teodor usually managed to maintain their positions as leaders of their own groups, it wasn’t unheard of for even ancient vampires to be unseated now and then. But here? In a foreign land, in neutral territory, where breaking the peace was such a dangerous prospect for those involved? It was practically unheard of.

David sat back in his seat, his hands crossed in front of his chin as he thought. The coup was on such a large scale, and so close to dawn, that there was nothing he could do about it until the sun set again. Once the sun _did_ set, it was more than likely that he would either find the usurpers already gone, spirited away during the daylight by minions who could walk in the sun, or his men would reach their resting places just in time to see their taillights disappearing into the distance as they made good on their escapes. Since those who had been dethroned were dead (except for the two sitting across from him), and their loyal followers were either dead as well or in hiding, there was no one to bring up charges against the rebels. He bit back a curse as he realized the alarming intelligence of the traitors.

They had found a loophole in the laws of the haven cities, one that David himself had never thought of until this very moment: if there was no one able or willing to demand justice for a crime committed _within_ a coven in neutral grounds, then those who had committed the crime could walk away without consequence. Most offenses that occurred within the city’s limits were between lone vampires, like a mugging or a murder, or a fight between one coven and another. He’d never heard of a case where the killer had been a part of the _same_ coven as the victim. Takeovers just didn’t happen in neutral cities, especially in America, where such matters were almost always solved in house, so to speak. Fucking bastards. If David had still been alive, he would be having the worst headache of his long, long life right now.

Still, there was a silver lining in this shitstorm: Teodor and Cosmina were very much alive, and that was something David would bet good money on Michael never planning on happening. If he was still the self-centered bastard he was back in the 80’s, then David had a feeling that Michael hadn’t even thought of the _possibility_ that his plans would fail. No, he was almost sure of it. Anyone stupid and cocky enough to go against some of the oldest vampires in the world in the middle of neutral territory wouldn’t even think to have a backup plan. It was sheer luck that they’d managed to kill as many leaders as they did. If David had still believed in a god, he would think the deity was laughing his ass off at the strangeness of fate.

Now the only question left was what to do now.

David uncrossed his legs and sat up once again, leaning forwards to rest his arms on his knees, his sharp eyes assessing the two vampires sitting across from him. While life had been good to him and his boys in the ensuing decades, David and the Lost Boys had never forgotten, nor forgiven, their brutal betrayal at the hands of Michael, his brother, and Star. The only thing that had stopped them from getting their revenge was the idea of losing their territory if they went out hunting for the traitors, and the only thing they loved more than violence was their home. Decades had passed while they rebuilt their lives, become stronger and more powerful than they ever could have dreamed of being before their fall.

But David was nothing if not patient, and now his patience had been rewarded: their chance for vengeance had been dropped right into their laps. He couldn’t care less about the vampires that were dead, beyond the trouble their deaths could cause him and his own. He had no time for the petty power struggles of the rich and the ancient, not when his own kingdom needed running. His ruined heart held no pity or sadness for the night’s dead, and if they weren’t promising to be of great use to him, David wouldn’t have minded if Teodor and Cosmina’s smug little existences had been wiped out as well. However, he now had a vested interest in seeing them kept alive and restored to their thrones, because they now had the same goal: to kill the traitors that destroyed their lives. With Teodor and Cosmina as his secret weapons, David could finally have his revenge.

All around him, he felt his brothers and sister pick up on his devious plans, and their feral glee warmed him in a way no blood could ever manage.

"Teodor. Cosmina. Go get cleaned up and get some rest. You are more than welcome to stay here in Santa Carla as long as you like, as my personal guests. We’ll give you all the help you need to restore what is rightfully yours. What kind of hosts would we be if we let such a tragedy go unanswered?” David’s voice was strangely cheerful, and his sinister grin did nothing to ease the confusion of the others in the room…although their confusing quickly turned to amusement as David continued to speak.

“…And the price of your…hospitality?” Teodor asked, his eyebrow rising as he sat straighter, eager to return to his throne, but wary as ever of help so happily given.

“Michael, Star, and Sam. Dead. Slowly. _Painfully._ ” David growled, his smile becoming a snarl.

Teodor turned to his wife, a question in his eyes. The two spoke without words for but a moment, then they turned as one back to David, eerily serene smiles on their bloody faces.

“We agree.”

 

* * *

 

 

The plan had been successful. They were the new rulers of Europe. No one would dare to go against them, the vampires that had killed the ancient heads of the most powerful covens in the world. The revelry had been swift by necessity as the irresistible call of the sun dragged them all to sleep.

All but one, who held on until the very last possible moment, for his own private celebration.

Now, he could shed the name of Andrei, forced upon him like so many things were in those first days of his immortal life.

He was Sam Emerson once again. 

And with a red-rimmed glare that could kill mortal men, and a smile that spoke of nothing but cruelty and contempt, he watched his brother and his mate sleep, the two of them blissfully unaware of the malcontent in their midst.

His time would soon come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me at unchainmesister.tumblr.com!

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me at unchainmesister.tumblr.com!


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